Final Fantasy: Returning Hope
by Toreshi Tobin
Summary: Book One: World of Balance - A novelistic version of Final Fantasy VI/III with more characterization, descriptive environments, war, romance, and plot-thickening than you could ever possibly hope to get out of 16 bits.
1. Prologue

_Final Fantasy VI/III (Japanese/American) and it's characters/settings/script/etc are property of Square/Squaresoft/Square Enix, or whatever other name the copywrite might be written under, and the respective artists/writers/programmers/etc. _

_Final Fantasy: Returning Hope is a novelized version of the Final Fantasy VI/III video game. Like many others, I believe this to be one of the greatest video games of our time, having lovable characters, a captivating storyline, and some of the most amusing scenes and plot devices ever created. I am going to be taking the original Final Fantasy VI/III script and formatting it into a series of two novels: World of Balance, and World of Ruin. Each chapter will be dedicated to one town or important area, and as such chapter length may vary dramatically. I hope to flesh out the already-wonderful story, giving thought and background to the characters, visually describing what has only been seen in 16-bits, and bringing an overall epic feel to the story. As this story is set during a war there will be violence, destruction, death, and probably a fair bit of profanity as well. These aren't your Super Nintendo characters anymore. _

_***JUNE 15 2013 UPDATE***__  
__**A while back I exported Returning Hope to my computer and began fixing it up a bit - revisions, edits, spell checks, and so on. Somewhere along the line I lost track of whether I'd transferred those fixes back to this online copy, so today I am going to be updating each chapter, just in case. I've also been continuing the story in recent weeks, so look forward to new updates in the near future. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my blog at .com**_

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

Where am I?

_Kill them!_

What is happening to me?

_Death! Destruction! Murder!_

Who are you?

_Yes, yes! Kill them all!_

Who am I?

_Burn them all up!_

What am I?

_Fire! Fire!_

Why won't you answer me?

_Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!_

I...I don't understand...

_Evil, miserable, ugly, terrible...hate!_

Someone...please help me...

_Hate! Hate! Hate! HATE!_

Someone please tell me...what am I?


	2. Chapter 1 Narshe

_Final Fantasy VI/III (Japanese/American) and it's characters/settings/script/etc are property of Square/Squaresoft/Square Enix, or whatever other name the copywrite might be written under, and the respective artists/writers/programmers/etc. _

***JUNE 15 2013 UPDATE***_  
_**A while back I exported Returning Hope to my computer and began fixing it up a bit - revisions, edits, spell checks, and so on. Somewhere along the line I lost track of whether I'd transferred those fixes back to this online copy, so today I am going to be updating each chapter, just in case. I've also been continuing the story in recent weeks, so look forward to new updates in the near future. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my blog at .com**

* * *

**Chapter One: Narshe**

* * *

The wind was a bitter cold. The natural formation of the mountains funneled each gust into the large caverns, creating ghostly howls that would cause even the bravest man's hair to stand on end. The two men who stood on a cliff overlooking these mountains were certainly brave, but certainly not the _bravest_.

"There's the town…" Biggs mumbled. He glared with dislike at the twinkling lights of the small mountain town several miles away.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?" Wedge asked no one in particular. "A thousand years after the War of the Magi and they dig up a perfectly preserved frozen esper."

"Think it's still…alive?"

Wedge gave Biggs a strained look. "Judging by the urgency they put on this mission? I'd say that it _must_ be."

The two soldiers stood in silence for a moment. The enormity of the situation weighed heavily on their minds, just as the wind blew heavily at their backs.

A distinctly out-of-place flash of color caught the corner of Biggs' eye. He sneered. The woman standing silently several feet away was a sore topic for him. Even so, he couldn't help staring at her strange and mysterious beauty. The flash of color he'd noticed was her long, wavy hair, which was a decidedly inhuman blue-green, akin to the hue of tropical waters. Her eyes, which stared unblinking as though they were dead, were a hauntingly lovely gray. Looking into them was like gazing into a thick wall of fog through which sunlight was desperately attempting to burst. Draped around her thin body were bits and pieces of Imperial armor, though this had been done simply as a formality. No one truly expected this 'soldier' to be in any danger of physical damage.

"This woman," Biggs broke the silence. "This…_witch_…why is she even with us? I don't trust her. I heard she took out an entire battalion of Magitek soldiers in under three minutes!"

"Overblown rumors," Wedge insisted, though the tone of his voice suggested that he might doubt his own words. "Besides, we've got nothing to worry about." He pointed to the thin gold circlet wrapped around the woman's head. "The slave crown robs her of all conscious thought. She'll follow orders."

Gazing into those unblinking, unmoving eyes, Bigs found that he was neither convinced nor comforted. "Whatever you say," he muttered. "Let's suit up."

The huge mechanical bodies that they hoisted themselves into made Biggs and Wedge feel slightly more comfortable amid the dark, the wind, and the snow. The cranks and levers, which controlled the massive arms and legs, felt strong and familiar beneath their fingertips. From the chest up their own flesh and blood bodies rose above the Magitek armors, allowing them to take in their surroundings from an elevated point of view. The suits would also make their trek much faster and significantly less exhausting.

The woman, perhaps due to some form of hypnotic suggestion implanted before they'd left for their mission, followed suit and climbed gracefully into her own armored body.

"Whatever you might say, I want _her_ up ahead of me at all times," Biggs announced over the wind. Wedge rolled his eyes, but secretly he had been thinking the same thing.

"We'll approach from the East. Move out!"

* * *

Approaching the mining town, the soldiers' ears met the sounds of steam power, but not much else. All around them machinery popped, hissed, and belched puffs of smoke, but not a single person was to be seen anywhere. It was not likely that their approach had gone unnoticed. Three sets of Magitek armor made a fair bit of clamor and weren't exactly invisible.

"Let's put _her_ on point," Wedge suggested, gesturing at the woman. "No point in taking any risks."

In a V formation, with the woman at the front, they moved steadily yet cautiously into the center of town. The din of wind, steam, and machinery was everywhere, but the lack of living beings was unnerving. There were lights shining through the curtains of many houses, yet no shadows moved within. If there were any people tucked away in those buildings they weren't keen on making themselves known.

Somewhere nearby came the unmistakable sound of rocks tumbling off a ledge. Biggs and Wedge turned quickly, but it all happened so fast that they nearly missed it. A very large dog that may have easily been a wolf jumped from a bridge spanning two buildings to their left. Teeth bared, a growl on its lips, the great gray beast hurled itself straight at the woman's throat. Unfortunately for the canine, the mysterious female's reflexes were disbelievingly fast. Before Biggs, Wedge, or the wolf-dog knew what was happening, a startlingly violent flash of flame erupted from the front of the woman's armor. A yelp rang out through the dark town and the poor beast collapsed to the ground in a scorched, stinking heap.

A strangled cry burst from the shadows to the left, presumably from the owner of the recently deceased guard dog.

"Biggs!" Wedge yelled. "Over there!" He raised his right cannon arm toward the noises.

"Over here too!" Biggs responded, glimpsing movement to his right.

"For Narshe!" a strong voice bellowed from behind them.

The altercation was a short one. Though the miners were plentiful and determined, they also wore very little in the way of bodily protection and carried few weapons more powerful than a hunting rifle. Between the disturbingly quick skills of their point-woman, and the cover fire provided by Biggs and Wedge, soon the ground was littered with two dozen human bodies and another handful of the curiously large canines.

"Retreat!" someone screamed. The remaining miners took off in several different directions.

Biggs made to give chase to a larger group scrambling up a hillside, but Wedge stepped in front of him. "Let them go. Our source said that the esper was found in a new mine shaft." He pointed toward a grouping of mine entrances at the far end of the mountain town. Specifically, he gestured at one entrance whose wooden braces looked much newer than the others.

With a last longing glance toward his quickly escaping prey, Biggs grumpily followed Wedge and the woman into the fresh mine shaft. The rocky passageway had been masterfully excavated; it was easily wide enough that, had they wanted to, they could have walked side by side. The bracing was such that the shaft might easily stand for a hundred years or more. Humming lights lined the walls, suggesting that there had been work going on her very recently, if it wasn't _still_ going on.

There were two adjoining passageways. They took the one that appeared to go deeper into the mountain. Before they'd gone very far at all they were stopped by a messily boarded up doorway that looked very likely to have been hastily constructed within the past half hour.

"I'll handle this," Biggs offered with a smirk. He raised one of his mechanical arms. The arm hummed and whirred; the cuff around the 'wrist' spun, pulling back the metal hand and quickly replacing it with a long, thin missile. "Stand back!" Biggs demanded. The woman compliantly stepped to one side. With a squeal and a flash the missile was released, and with one explosive burst of energy the makeshift door was reduced to splinters.

As the dust began to clear, a distinctive coughing could be heard from the uncovered room. "We won't just hand over the esper!" a hoarse voice cried. "Destroy them, Whelk!"

The ground, walls, and ceiling began to tremble. Bigs and Wedge took a surprised step backward as the passageway filled with an enormous creature, the likes of which they'd never seen. Its body was a massive spiral shell that shined and shimmered in the meager mine light. Bulging out from beneath the shell was an immense, slug-like creature. Its flesh was thick, brown, and extremely slimy. Two huge eye stalks swiveled horrifically on the top of what must have been its head.

Without thinking, Biggs quickly loaded another missile into his Magitek arm. "I'll take care of this fucking monster!"

"No, wait!" Wedge cried, but a moment too late. The missile impacted upon the creature's shell. Biggs grinned at the shriek it emitted, but his face soon dropped. The clearing dust revealed no physical damage to the shell, which was now suddenly glowing with a bright white light which filled the mine.

"Get out of the way!" Wedge shoved at Biggs' armor, almost sending both of them crashing to the ground before they could steady themselves. Within a second of the push a precisely directed bolt of lightning demolished the wall where Biggs' head had just been.

"Shit!" Biggs shouted. "What the hell?!"

"I've read about these things," Wedge explained quickly. "It's a lightning whelk. They follow around storm systems, 'eating' lightning and storing the energy in their shells. Attacking the shell releases bursts of that stored energy."

"Okay, okay!" Biggs yelled impatiently. "So we'll attack the head then!"

They stepped forward together, but jumped back in surprise when the whelk let out another screech and released several smaller bolts of electricity. All around them bits of wall exploded. The whelk's eye stalks writhed maddeningly.

"On second thought…" Wedge grumbled to himself. "Hey, witch!" The woman was still standing silently to one side; she turned her head to Wedge's voice. "Kill that thing!" he commanded.

The Magitek armor moved casually, as if it were going out for a leisurely stroll. The woman moved to stand in front of the nightmarish whelk. Lightning crashed all around her, but she didn't seem to notice and miraculously did not get hit. The whelk looked down at her, eye stalks twisting as though it was confused as to how she'd gotten there. Its shell began to glow again, but before a single volt could be released two huge mechanical hands reached up and grasped the creature's thick, slimy neck. It squealed in alarm and its eye stalks bulged from the pressure. The Magitek hands squeezed tighter as gears turned and shifted. Excluding the missile cannons in the hands themselves, every weapon on the armor clanked noisily into place and aimed at the massive creature. Through its vastly compressed throat, the whelk let out a final echoing screech before its hide was sliced open by a barrage of fire, explosions, and blunt weaponry. Without any indication of remorse, or even a real comprehension of what she'd just done, the woman tossed the twitching head unceremoniously aside.

"Yes, well…I suppose that will do…" Wedge stammered. Biggs couldn't reply, as his jaw was hanging open as wide as it would go. "Let's, uh…let's move on then, shall we?"

They crept cautiously into the recently blocked-off cavern, but whoever had set the whelk on them had evidently decided to be elsewhere.

"Look!" Wedge hissed.

There, sitting at the back of the hollowed-out room, was a massive crystal of ice. Within its confines stood a being that neither Wedge nor Biggs would have ever been able to describe if they'd been asked. Its enormous wings were wrapped around it like a cape, as though it had been trying to warm itself in its last moments. The feathers had a magnificence that could not be put into words. It was as though every strand of down was singing a sad song of light and dark, peace and war. Biggs and Wedge were captivated by the feathers. The woman, however, was staring directly into the esper's pure white eyes. They seemed to be staring directly into hers, examining her, trying to communicate with her.

Without being prompted, the woman slowly climbed out of her Magitek armor and took a few tentative steps forward. Wedge caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and dragged his attention away from the singing feathers. "Hey!" he yelled. "Where do you think you're going?"

As she continued to move slowly forward, the frozen creature began emitting an eerie light. It gave the feeling of a flickering candle being reflected through the many facets of the ice crystal.

"What's this?" Wedge exclaimed. "Where's this light coming from?"

Biggs barely had time to turn to his comrade before there was a bone-chilling scream and Wedge vanished in a flash of light.

"W-Wedge?" Biggs cried. "Wedge! Where are you?! W-what's happening?!"

No one would ever know what Biggs saw at that moment, but if the woman had been looking at him she would have seen his eyes go wide and his mouth open in silent horror before a second flash of light swept him away to join his comrade.

The woman was not, however, watching her fellow soldiers vanish into nothingness. She was hypnotized by those white eyes. Without moving or giving any kind of indication that it was even alive, the esper was boring into her soul, analyzing her, wordlessly interrogating her. The feathers were not only singing now; they were performing a lament the likes of which human ears have never heard, and never will. The glimmers of light coming through the ice were blinding, though she found it impossible to close her eyes against them.

Her lip quivered and all at once a million thoughts came rushing through her head, filling her mind with painful images that made no sense to her. She grasped at her head and cried out, falling to her knees on the hard ground.

"Who are you?" she cried with a hoarse voice that had not been used in a very long time. "What do you know about me? Please! Tell me, who am I?"

And with a final flash of light, she lost consciousness and dropped to the ground.

* * *

The pain was immense. She groaned aloud and tried to reach up to her throbbing head, but she found herself tangled up in a set of bedsheets. Disoriented and panicked, she kicked and thrashed at the bedding and soon found herself tumbling to the floor with a loud thud.

"Where am I?!" she cried, eyes darting around the small bedroom.

"Woah," a warm voice responded. "It's okay, just calm down. You're safe here."

She turned to the closet where an elderly man with a kind face was placing something away on a shelf.

"I…I don't remember anything!" she sobbed. "What's happening to me?"

The man smiled woefully and took the item he'd been tucking away back out of the closet. It was a thin gold circle of some sort and looking at it filled her with dread, though she had no idea why.

"This is a slave crown," the main explained. "The men you were with…they had complete control over you while you were wearing it. If you've been wearing it for a long time it may have some adverse effects on your memory, but it should all come back. In time, that is. Can you remember your name?"

She thought, though it was painful, and found that there _was_ something lingering in the very back of her mind, waiting for her to retrieve it. If she concentrated she could almost see the letters in front of her eyes…

"T…Terra…" she whispered. "Terra Branford." She looked up at the man with something like amazement on her face. "My name is Terra Branford."

"Wonderful!" the older man exclaimed. "Rarely does anyone recover so fast! You should do well." He walked toward her and Terra found herself scrambling backwards, her back pressed uncomfortably against the bed she'd fallen from. "It's okay, it's okay," he said again, with that same warm smile. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

Slowly, analyzing his face, she found she believed him, though she was still terribly frightened. "How did I get here?"

Before the kind man could answer, a furious pounding came from the other side of the house. Alarmed, they both jumped.

"Open up!" a voice bellowed. "Open this door! We know you've got her in there and we want her back, old man! That woman is an officer of the Empire!"

"Empire?" Terra stuttered. "Officer? Me? What's going on?"

The man's face had gone hard, his eyes narrowed toward the front door of his small home. "I'm very sorry, Terra. I'd hoped we'd have more time to chat, but unfortunately it looks like that's a luxury we can't afford." Without warning he moved quickly over to her and hauled her up off the floor from under her arm. Dragging her unceremoniously over to a corner, he began to slide a bookcase out of the way of what appeared to be a hidden door. He grunted from the heft of the books.

"You've got to escape out through the mines while I keep these guys occupied," he explained hurriedly. "I'm sorry that I don't have time to explain everything, but I promise I'll send someone to meet up with you just as soon as he arrives here."

"I-I don't want to go alone!" Terra cried. Her heart began to race. "I don't know what to do!"

The man's face softened again, just a little, but he stood resolutely gesturing toward the door. "I am terribly sorry, but believe me when I saw you'll be better off running. I promise that someone will meet you as soon as possible. Just keep out of sight of the miners and you should be fine."

She was confused, her head still throbbed, and she hadn't the slightest clue what was happening to her. Every corner of her mind screamed out in protest of this entire situation. She found, however, that she wasn't exactly overwhelmed with choices.

"I…I'll go," she finally agreed. A few hot tears brimmed in her eyes. "But please, make sure someone comes soon!" She didn't want to hear a response because she was frightened she'd lose her nerve.

It was dark outside and the wind was freezing. A few burning lanterns gave Terra enough light to see the small wooden bridge extending from the hidden door, over the street below, and into a small cave opening. She started to creep carefully forward and instantly winced at the noise she created. Taking a look at herself for the first time since she'd woken, she found she was wearing bits and pieces of bronze armor. Carefully, painstakingly, she peeled the armor away and laid it carefully on the ground. She could hear the men still pounding on the front door of the house behind her and was terrified they might hear her and coming running this way.

When she was free of the armor, wearing only the basic gray jumpsuit that was meant as an undergarment, she scrambled to the cave as quickly as she dared while still keeping as quiet as possible.

The cave was either part of one of the mine shafts that was currently being excavated, or else the old man kept it lit with small strings of lanterns for just such an occasion. Terra crept through slowly at first, but a yell near the cave's entrance sent her into a panicked run. She wasn't even sure why she was so frightened, but something was telling her to trust the old man. So she ran through the tunnels, unthinking, taking a left, then a right, never debating where she was going or where she might end up, until eventually she found herself at a dead end.

"Oh…" she muttered, halting in front of the solid stone wall. "Dammit."

"There she is!" a voice echoed through the tunnel.

Terra spun around, eyes wide, to find half a dozen men with mine picks and at least one rifle barreling down on her. Somehow she'd managed to navigate herself right into their hunting party.

"Alright, Missy," the man with the rifle spoke in a gruff voice. "Don't try and escape now. We've got you cornered. Just come quietly."

Terra's heart raced and a few hot tears rolled from her eyes. _What do I do_? she thought.

"What do you want from me?!" was what she screamed. "Leave me alone!"

The men took a few steps forward, ignoring her question. Terra pressed herself up against the wall.

"No!" she screamed as loud as her voice could manage. "Stay back!"

A deep rumbling sound came from somewhere close by and the men stepped back in surprise and alarm. "Shut up!" one of them hissed at Terra. "Not so loud! You'll bring the place down!"

"Get away!" she shrieked again, ignoring the warning and straining her voice.

The men barely managed to scramble away. Terra didn't even attempt to move as the stony floor beneath her crumbled and fell away into nothingness.

* * *

_An evil chuckle. A foreboding sound that chilled her through to the bone. A voice that made her cringe internally. _

"_Uwee hee hee…my sweet little magic user…" he whispered, stroking her cheek with an icy cold finger. "With this slave crown I'll practically own you."_

_She felt the object being placed on her head and struggled, but the restraints held and she could scarcely move. And just like that she found that all control of her mind and body was forfeit. She could see, she could comprehend, but she could not control._

_He took her to a field. Dozens of Magitek soldiers stood at command in their giant armors. At his command, she climbed into the armor he had readied for her and prepared for battle. Her hands and feet moved of their own accord, acquiescing to his every demand. She tried with all her might to close her eyes against the death before her, but even her eyelids would not accept her simple requests._

"_Yes!" he cried. His voice betrayed his enjoyment of the slaughter. "Kill them all! Burn them all up! Show me your power!"_

_Now they were at the head of a great fortress. Others stood with them, though she could not turn her head to examine them. She knew there was a beautiful woman with long, pale hair, and a tall man with a stout body. Before them was a strange old man in glamorous garb. This one spoke to the mass of soldiers who stood below, hanging on his every word._

"_We stand on the bring of a major breakthrough!" he told them. "In the days to come we will witness the total revival of Magic!" The soldiers cheered insanely. "It is our destiny, mine and yours, to take this mystical force and use it to claim what is rightfully ours! With our new-found abilities nothing can stand in our way!"_

"_Hurrah!" the soldiers cried. "Long live Emperor Gestahl! Long live Emperor Gestahl!"_

_Her heart ached. It was all wrong, all so terribly, terribly wrong, and yet she could do nothing to change it. No one noticed amid the excitement when a few solemn tears fell from her eyes._

* * *

The cheering of the soldiers in her nightmare gave way to a different set of noises. At first, Terra couldn't tell if the clanging echoes were real, or just in her head, which was pounding. Barely conscious, she opened her eyes part-way and glimpsed a mysterious sight. There was a young man in tattered pants and a tight blue shirt. His leather-booted feet were in a wide stand and a blue bandanna held back his scruffy brown hair. From her vantage point on the ground, Terra couldn't see his face, but he was holding a dagger that seemed to be dripping blood. Surrounding him on all sides were short, strange little creatures that she could not identify. They appeared to be small white bears, but from their backs sprouted tiny pink wings. Could she be hallucinating?

"Back with you!" the young man yelled.

A voice came from beyond the crowd of little white creatures. "We want the girl, thief!"

The young man's posture stiffened. "That's _treasure hunter_, you bastard!"

"Come on then, you little punk!" another voice demanded.

Terra didn't understand, and her head was swimming. Before she could call out to the young man she found herself retreating back into a dead faint.

* * *

It may have been only a moment later, or it may have been hours. She didn't know for sure. However, when Terra woke for the third time that night she found yet another change of scenery. As she slowly regained consciousness she found herself gazing up into the bright blue eyes of the young man in the tattered pants from earlier. At first she began to panic, but she soon found that looking into those friendly eyes made her feel somehow safe and comforted.

"Back with us now?" His voice was playful and kind.

"Who…who are you?" Terra asked.

He raised her head, helping her to sit up on the hard stone ground. "The name's Locke Cole," he introduced himself with a flair. "The old man you met sent me along to help you out. Luckily I found you just before the miners did."

She coughed and found that her ribs ached, but nothing seemed broken. "You…saved me?"

"Save your thanks for the moogles," Locke insisted with a wink. "They really helped me out of a jam."

Terra didn't ask what in the world a 'moogle' was.

Perhaps the confusion on her face hinted Locke off, however. "Yeah, he told me that you have amnesia…" Suddenly he jumped to his feet, his gloved hands on his hips, and grinned like a maniac. Terra almost jumped back in surprise. "Well don't worry!" he insisted loudly. "You're safe with me! I give you my word as a man that I will not leave your side until your memory returns!"

Terra blinked a few times and her mouth dropped a little. "I…uh, okay…" she stuttered. "I guess…thank you?"

Locke grinned and gave her two thumbs up. Terra could help but think that he was a bit off.

"Well, we'd better head out then," he said, his demeanor suddenly turning all-business.

Terra stood slowly, taking in the aches of her own body. Looking around she found that they were surrounded by rock wall on three sides. The forth side, a tunnel, was obviously the route they'd come down. "Head out where?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Locke wagged a finger and winked at her again before turning to the far wall. He ran his hand along the stones, examining them carefully until he found a small circular stone that made him grin and gave it a firm push. The stone slid into the wall, almost mechanically, and there was a deep rumbling as the wall itself split in two and grindingly swung outward.

"A super-secret passage into and out of town," Locke explained. "We should be able to make it away without being seen."

Terra followed him cautiously outside into the cold and the dark. She could see the lights from the town about a mile or so off. Grunting, Locke slid the secret door back into place.

"Where will we go?" Terra asked. She shivered against the cold mountain wind.

"South, to Figaro Castle," Locke replied, dusting off his gloves. "The king there will give us shelter while we plan our next move."

"And then, what is our next move?" Terra inquired. "I…I don't understand what's happening or why I'm involved in any of this. What is happening to me?"

Locke's face was kind with concern. He smiled a gentle smile and reached up to wipe a tear from Terra's eye. "I know," he told her. "I'll try to explain as much as I can on the way. It's a bit of a hike."

She looked up at him and didn't know what to think, but she knew in her heart that refusing to go with him would be unreasonable.

"I'll come along then," she agreed. "Following you has got to be better than waiting here for people I don't know to capture me for reasons I don't understand."

Locke grinned happily, a goofy kind of grin. "Alright then! Let's head a little East first. I've got a tent there with some extra clothes and you look frozen."

"I'm Terra," she said suddenly, remembering. "Terra Branford."

"Nice to meet you, Terra Branford. I think we're going to become good friends, you'll see."


	3. Chapter 2 Figaro

_Final Fantasy VI/III (Japanese/American) and it's characters/settings/script/etc are property of Square/Squaresoft/Square Enix, or whatever other name the copywrite might be written under, and the respective artists/writers/programmers/etc. _

***JUNE 15 2013 UPDATE***_  
_**A while back I exported Returning Hope to my computer and began fixing it up a bit - revisions, edits, spell checks, and so on. Somewhere along the line I lost track of whether I'd transferred those fixes back to this online copy, so today I am going to be updating each chapter, just in case. I've also been continuing the story in recent weeks, so look forward to new updates in the near future. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my blog at .com**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Figaro**

* * *

They walked in silence until they were a good distance away from the town. As they traipsed along, the only sound that of the snow crunching beneath their feet, Locke took the opportunity to steal quick glances at Terra out of the corner of his eye. He'd heard many rumors about the 'blue-haired Magitek girl'. He'd heard people use the word 'witch' and exchange stories about how she could destroy an entire city (as no cities had gone missing lately, Locke was fairly certain these stories were exaggerations). Arvis, the old man from Narshe, insisted that she was nothing more than a victim of the Empire's cruelty. Locke thought she looked simply like a scared young woman barely out of her teenage years.

It took them over an hour to reach Locke's small campsite, at which point he determined it should be safe to break the silence.

"Alright, Terra," he said jovially while sticking his head inside the tiny tent, "Let's see what we've got here." He grabbed two articles of clothing from the small pile he owned and turned back to find Terra gazing rather intensely at the remains of his fire from the night before. He wasn't sure exactly what she was looking at, but when he cleared his throat she slowly turned back to face him.

"Here you go!" He grinned and held out a pair of jeans and a leather jacket. "These should warm you up a bit!"

Terra's eyes slowly dropped to his outreached hands and there they stayed. She had a blank look on her face.

A few moments passed and Locke began to shift his weight nervously from foot to foot. "Um…" he said eventually, clearing his throat again, "I know they're not…fashionable, and their probably way too big, but…"

Terra's eyes shot up and widened. She looked as though she'd just woken from a trance. "No, no…" she stumbled over the words. "They're fine, of course. Thank you very much…" She gave a strange, unsure smile as she took the clothes from Locke.

She pulled the jeans over the gray jumpsuit. Locke himself was fairly lean, so they weren't enormous, but still they hung loose around her hips. The jacket was very large - Locke liked it baggy - but she wrapped it around her chilled body happily.

"Hungry?" Locke asked. He held out an apple from his pack.

Terra nodded frantically, only just now realizing what the pain in her stomach was trying to tell her, and accepted the apple hungrily.

Locke took a large bite of his own apple and chewed thoughtfully. "Maybe we should camp here for the day," he suggested after swallowing. "After everything that's happened, well…it's probably been more than twenty-four hours since you had a decent rest."

But Terra was already shaking her head. "Honestly, she told him, "I don't think I could sleep now if I tried. I think…I think I'd just like to get far away from here as fast as possible. If…if that's okay with you?"

Locke found it hard to believe that Terra wasn't utterly exhausted after all she'd been through, but he replied with a smile and a "No problem!" and quickly began to gather up his belongings.

And he waited for the questions. He had assumed that, once he'd shown it was okay to talk again, he'd be bombarded with them. Surely this poor girl with a lost memory, finding herself in such a strange and frightening situation, would have a million questions to ask. And yet, she seemed strangely quiet, withdrawn, and uninterested. She was silent while Locke rounded up the last of his things and dismantled the tent. She gave only a small nod when he asked if she was ready to set out. He heard only the sounds of the snow under her boots as she walked.

It was, to say the least, a little unnerving.

As they hiked for mile after mile, Locke began to nervously wonder what her problem was. Was she scared? He thought he'd done a fine job of reassuring her that he was here to help and that he wanted to be her friend. Was it shyness then? She hadn't seemed particularly shy earlier, but perhaps now that the initial shock had worn off… Or maybe she'd hit her head harder than he'd originally assessed. Could that be it?

A little too frantically, he whipped his head around to examine Terra's face. She looked back at him with shock at his sudden movement and he quickly forced a grin on his face and turned back to the path. Well, she'd responded quickly enough anyway.

The truth was that while Locke was desperately debating why Terra wouldn't ask any questions, Terra was having a mental and emotional battle over what questions she wanted to ask.

There were so many of them swarming through her head that she couldn't seem to choose just one. Why had the men from Narshe been trying to capture her? What was this Empire they thought she was a part of? Who was the old man who had helped her? What were those little bear-like creatures she'd seen? The list went on and on and repeated itself multiple times through her head until it hurt physically. How could she possibly decide what to ask first? And how could she avoid the questions that she didn't necessarily want to know the answers to?

Many hours later, when the sun had begun to sink behind the mountains, Locke collapsed and suggested they camp for the night.

"It's another four or five days at least," he explained. He panted, out of breath from the trek, while Terra's breathing seemed perfectly stable. "We're far enough away from Narshe now; they won't follow us this far. We should rest and eat."

Terra nodded in her quiet way and sat herself gracefully down on a fallen tree.

Locke reconstructed the tent to the low hotting of a waking owl. Once the tent was in place he extracted a few pieces of dried jerky from his pack and handed half of them to Terra. He observed, as she took them gratefully, that the strange young woman didn't seem to register hunger until she was presented with food.

"Locke?" Terra spoke softly.

He jumped a mile at the sound of her voice. He'd become so used to the silence. "Yes?" he replied after a second of steadying his heart.

She hesitated a moment, fidgeting where she sat, and eventually she said in an even quieter voice, "Tell me about yourself."

Locke couldn't have been more taken aback. Of all the things she could have asked!

"Uh, well…" he stuttered his surprise. "What do you want to know?"

Terra flushed a little and stared determinedly forward at the owl stretching his wings from a nearby branch. "I don't know…anything."

He stared at her out of the corner of his eye for a long moment before finally speaking hesitantly. "Well, I'm a member of the Returners," he told her. "I do a lot of…spying, and odd-jobs for them. The man you met in Narshe is one of us as well."

"And who exactly _are_ the Returners?" Terra asked quickly, and now Locke understood. She hadn't known where to start, and now he'd given her an opening.

"Well," he said, thinking about how to best answer the question, "We're an organization that's opposed to the Empire. I'm not sure how far we'll get or how much good we'll do, but I guess you could say that we're trying to bring the whole thing down."

Terra nodded quietly, but Locke could see that she didn't quite understand.

"It's like this…" He took a bite of his jerky and repositioned himself to face Terra. "There's this guy called Emperor Gestahl. He has lots of followers and a huge army, and he does a lot of awful things like invading peaceful countries and taxing people nearly to death. I guess you could say, for lack of a better description, that he wants to take over the world."

Terra nodded again, a little more enthusiastically. "And the…_Returners_ want to stop him?"

"Right," Locke confirmed. "We're freedom fighters."

Terra had many more questions, but she found herself suddenly rather frightened to ask them. She was thinking about the miners who had shouted from outside the old man's house. _That woman is an officer of the Empire!_ That's what they'd said. Was it true? She certainly couldn't remember, but they had sure seemed to think so. Did Locke know about it? Surely he wouldn't have helped her if he did… Or perhaps he _did_ know and she was really his unwitting prisoner, being duped into coming quietly.

Locke watched Terra's blank face as she ran through the possibilities in her head. He expected that, how she'd finally broken the question barrier, she would continue relentlessly. After a few minutes, however, she simply nodded. The jerky strips were limp, forgotten in her hand as she stared into the trees where the owl dove at a field mouse.

Though it was a peaceful night, they both slept uneasily.

* * *

"Almost…there…" Locke panted. "Just over…this next dune…I'm sure of it this time…"

Terra raised an eyebrow. Although she wasn't nearly as exhausted and uncomfortable as Locke seemed to be, she reached up to swipe a bead of sweat from her forehead.

The climate had changed dramatically throughout their journey. On the second day they'd reached a moderate zone at the bottom of the mountains. Once here the temperature began to rise exponentially as they headed south. On the third day Terra had to shed Locke's jacket as they traveled alongside a babbling river. On the fourth, they left the forest behind for warm, wide-open plains. By the morning of the fifth they'd passed into the desert, the scorching sun beating down on them mercilessly. It was here, somewhere, that Locke claimed they would come to Figaro Castle, but Terra was beginning to doubt his sanity. All she could see in any direction was endless golden sand.

Terra hadn't asked any questions since that first night, making it a very long and awkward journey. Locke had attempted to prompt her a few times, but mostly they had walked in silence, stopping only to sleep and eat dried meats and fruits from Locke's pack. It had been very uncomfortable for Locke, but necessary in Terra's eyes. She was as yet unsure what she should and shouldn't say around the young man. Did he know of her affiliation with the Empire or didn't he? If he did, was he still helping her out of the goodness of his heart, or was she really a hostage? And if he didn't, what would he do if she told him? Would he continue to help her, or would he leave her for dead here in this awful wasteland?

Her heart and instincts told her she could trust him, but good old fashioned fear kept her from risking it.

"Oh thank the bloody maker!" Locke sighed from the top of the dune. "We finally made it!"

Part of her (the part that was hot and tired) suspected that he had contracted sun stroke and was gazing lovingly down at another particularly large dune. She was therefore genuinely surprised when, upon reaching the apex of the mound of sand herself, she found what could only be described as a fortress, plunked right in the middle of the desert.

It was both beautiful and extremely impressive, its thick black stone contrasting against the endless golden sand. The outer wall structure ran all the way around in a perfect square, with a tall, circular tower rising up from each corner. Up through the center of the structure rose a fifth square tower where one could stand and overlook the entire fortress and the sands beyond. From a pole on this central tower flew three flags, though at this distance Terra couldn't distinguish the designs.

Locke was halfway down the dune by the time Terra stopped staring. She followed him at a quicker trot than usual, sand sneaking into the crevices in her boots. She was as eager as he was to get in out of the unforgiving sun.

"Hey!" Locke was calling to the guards when Terra caught up to him. "Open the gate, will you? We're dying out here!"

The guards were squinting in the sun and holding their crossbows at the read as they walked closer, but Terra saw that one of them was grinning. "Ah, it's you!" he chuckled. "Get lost in the desert again?"

"I don't _get_ lost," Locke snarled, but there was a good-natured tone in his voice. "Just let us the hell in already!"

All three guards laughed out loud now, but they signaled to a fourth who was on the inner side of the large, cross-hatched steel gate. It creaked open slowly and the guards ushered Locke and Terra in, snickering the whole time. The gate clanged back down behind them once they were safely inside.

They were in a great courtyard lined with potted plants and bustling with people. Terra tried to look around - her eye caught a man with a cart selling fresh bread to a crowd of laughing women and children - but Locke continued to stride purposefully forward. She had to jog alongside him to keep up.

"What's the rush?" she asked. As she trotted along she turned with interest to watch a man with a chest plate teaching some young boys how to properly swing a sword.

"The king will be wanting to see us immediately," Locke explained.

Clamping her mouth shut, Terra once more wondered if she wasn't truly a hostage in all this. With a stab of panic she wondered if the king would have guards waiting to toss her in the dungeon and Locke was leading her straight to them. For a moment she hesitated, but she barely missed half a step before she continued along. The castle gate was shut; it wasn't as though she could make a run for it now.

Locke led her into the main building of the castle, down hallways covered in beautiful carpets, up staircases lined with flowers and burning lanterns sprinkled with sweet-smelling incense. They passed through many doorways guarded by men in full, shining armor who carried large spears or swords. Some, like the guards at the gate, clutched crossbows to their chests. Terra's eyes darted in every direction, but there was simply too much to be seen. She realized after the eighth or ninth passageway that she couldn't remember how to get back to where they'd started.

By the time they came to a pair of large, ebony doors that could only be the entrance to the throne room, Terra's heart had begun to beat irregularly. What was going to happen in there? She had little idea, and the thought of not knowing made her clench her fists until her fingernails bit deep into her palms.

Locke strode confidently past the guards - who didn't give a second glance - and pushed the huge doors open just wide enough for the two of them to walk through.

The first thing Terra noticed was that the large room had an exceptionally high ceiling, but soon her eyes were drawn to the lavish decorations, the carpets and wall-hangings of crimson and gold. At the far end of the room stood two gorgeous thrones, the arms and backs of which were carved in intricate designs, with the seats covered in plush red velvet. The thrones, however, were both empty, as was the rest of the room, save for one tall man standing over a table littered with scrolls and maps. Terra relaxed a little at the absence of any guards.

The man at the table looked up at their arrival and Terra found herself surprised to see that he was rather young. She'd been expecting a man of age and wisdom, but this man couldn't be more than thirty - not that much older than Locke or herself.

"Locke!" he cried, smiling. "You've returned!"

Terra stood resolutely on the spot as the two young men strode to meet at the center of the room. The greeted each other like the best of friends, shaking hands and patting each other on the shoulder. This man did not fit at all with Terra's idea of what a king should be. He was tall and lean, with bright blue eyes and long golden hair that was pulled into a braid and hung halfway down his back. His navy and silver clothing, complete with a cape that billowed down to his ankles, were certainly regal enough, but they were wrinkled and dirty in several places. Though it was barely noticeable - he'd clearly attempted to clean himself up after whatever he'd been into - Terra's eyes were sharp and she got the distinct impression that he'd been working with some sort of mechanical grease…not a very likely sort of thing for a king to be up to.

The king looked over at her suddenly, the smile on his face gone and replaced by a look of interest. Terra started to straighten her posture subconsciously, though she'd already been standing at rapt attention.

"You mean _this_ young woman?" he asked aloud. Terra realized she must have missed part of the conversation during her assessment of his appearance.

The king walked toward her, a very inquisitive look on his face, and stopped with a few feet between them. Terra met his eyes, but his gaze quickly shifted. As she watched in confusion, the young king studied her body from head to toe before turning swiftly back toward Locke.

Terra's face grew hot and the words came tumbling out all at once. "Hey! Just who the _hell_ do you think you are?"

From the center of the room Locke burst into raucous laughter. The king speedily turned back to face her, his cape rustling around his shoulders, embarrassment clear on his near-flawless face.

"Oh! My apologies!" he gushed. "How absolutely rude of me to turn my back to a lady!" He swept in majestically, and before Terra knew what had happened, he'd scooped one of her hands in both of his and gently kissed the back of it. "I am Edgar, king of Figaro." He paused and flashed a dazzling smile, which made Terra blink in surprise and puzzlement.

With a snicker, Locke sauntered up next to them and leaned in with a grin. "Surprised someone like me knows a king?" he asked. Then, without so much as a warning, he winked and said, "See you a bit later!" and dashed out of the room, closing the doors behind him.

Terra stared after him, her mouth hanging slightly open, feeling betrayed and abandoned.

"So!" Edgar said, still holding Terra's hand. "You're an Imperial soldier!"

Terra's head whipped back to face the king and her heart sped up. So Locke _had_ known!

"No worries, no worries!" Edgar laughed at the look on her face. "Figaro and the Empire are allies! Besides, it's not in my blood to harm a lady." He flashed that dazzling smile again. "Please relax while you are here in my castle."

_Allies?_ Terra thought. _But what about the Returners?_

Delicately, she pulled her hand from Edgar's grasp and gave him an appraising look. "Be honest," she insisted. "Why are you helping me?" Images flashed through her head; memories that had been slowly returning to her of the invasion of Narshe, of her uncanny reflexes and eagle-eye aim. "Is it…is it because of my abilities?"

Edgar turned from her for a moment, pondering the question. "I'll give you three reasons," he announced after a mere moment. Glancing back at her out of the corner of his eye, he held up one finger. "First of all, your beauty has captivated me." He turned fully to face her and continued before she could respond. "Second, I'm dying to know if I'm your type…" He flashed his grin again and, although he was handsome and confident, Terra found herself cringing internally. "I guess your…_abilities_…would be a distant third." He waved this last off as though it was information of no consequence.

Terra was completely bewildered.

"Wh-…what's _with_ you?"

The change in his facial expression was infinitesimal, but Terra registered the flash of disappointment before Edgar managed to gather himself.

"Well then, if you will excuse me, m'lady," he said with an unusually steady grin. "I have some important issues to attend to. Please feel free to wander about the castle at your leisure." He bowed politely before turning to stride, missing a step halfway, back toward the cluttered table. As he walked away he muttered under his breath. The words were likely meant for his ears only, but Terra's were exceptionally keen and she picked them out of the air easily: "Guess my technique's getting a bit rusty…"

Terra stared at the king's back for a moment, hesitated twice, and finally she quietly slipped out through the huge doors. A poorly-stifled snicker met her and she turned to find Locke lounging against the wall. He was attempting, and failing, to control his hysterics.

"Turned him down flat, didn't you?" he chuckled. "I thought you might. I was hoping on it actually. Little lecher needs a good bit of rejection every now and then." He was laughing out loud by the end.

Terra contemplated his words, wondering if she should find the situation as humorous as he did, or if perhaps she should be angry. Maybe there was some other emotion that would be suitable for this strange situation?

"Well…" she murmured, thinking about the king's odd wording, "I suppose…I suppose any _normal _girl would have found him dashing."

_But I'm hardly normal…_ she added to herself.

Locke snorted once before pushing off the wall and walking over to Terra with his hands in his pockets, a smile on his face. "Ah, don't worry about it!" he insisted, misinterpreting her meaning. "He's an insufferable cretin and something like this every now and then would do him good!"

Terra nodded, though she didn't understand at all.

"Come on then!" Locke trilled on, patting Terra on the shoulder. "Let's go pay the handmaidens a visit and get you some more suitable clothes."

* * *

"There, isn't that lovely then?" the senior handmaiden cooed.

Terra gazed at her reflection in the full-length mirror and wondered if what she saw was beauty. The handmaidens had dressed her in a delicate red silk dress that slid gently off her right shoulder and fluttered around her thighs. Scarves of white, gold, and a soft baby blue were tied loosely around her waist, hips, and wrists, and one of the younger handmaidens was currently using a few to tie her hair into a long ponytail, high atop her head, that fell soft around her shoulders.

"Come on now, my dear," aid the older lady. "You look simply ravishing! Let's see a smile, hmm?"

Trying to avoid moving and upsetting the girl who was fixing her hair, Terra used the mirror to give a hesitant smile to the handsome older woman. She grinned back.

"You really are very pretty, Miss Terra," said the blond one who'd picked out the dress. There was a hint of jealousy there that Terra didn't quite comprehend, but she also thought she heard honesty. "I'm surprised that King Edgar didn't attempt to - how do they say? - _court_ you."

All the other girls giggled foolishly as though it were some kind of inside joke. Terra flushed.

"Well, that is…" she stammered, "I think that maybe he _did_."

They didn't quite stop giggling, but they looked at her a bit more seriously.

"And you turned him down?" the blond asked, incredulous, before bursting into laughter. "Oh, my dear, you certainly have more class than most of us! Not to mention self-respect!"

Terra looked around the room of laughing women and felt more bewildered than ever. "I don't understand," she admitted quietly. "_Why_ do I have more class and self-respect?"

"For being able to turn him down, Miss Terra!"

"Oh, we've all had our turn with him, hoping we'd be the one to make him change his ways and settle down…"

"And become Queen in the process, of course!"

"Yes, but in the end there's really no changing him. He's just destined to be a hopeless womanizer!"

"Now, now, ladies!" the older handmaiden admonished them in a strong, loud voice. "That's no way to talk about our poor Edgar! You all know perfectly well how much stress he's been under since his brother left!"

The girls quieted down at this, some of them looking rather abashed, and after a moment Terra's curiosity got the better of her.

"Brother?" she inquired to the older woman.

The senior handmaiden smiled wistfully, as though recalling a sad memory. "Yes, our king is a twin, you see. Sabin is the younger brother's name…born only an hour after Edgar." She looked as though the thought of him was causing her physical pain. "Such a nice young man he was…until their father passed away and he ran out on the kingdom, leaving Edgar to rule alone." She sighed then and Terra couldn't help but feel that there was more to the story. She decided not to pry.

"Ahem," said a voice from the hallway. "If you harpies are just about finished filling Terra's head with nonsen-ow!" One of the younger handmaidens had thrown a heavy silver hairbrush out into the hallway where Locke had been waiting. Several particularly rude words wafted into the room and the girls began to chuckle again.

"I'd better go," Terra told them. She nervously folded herself into a low bow. "Thank you so much for the clothes!"

"No trouble, my dear, no trouble!" they told her, happily. Suspecting that her eagerness to leave with Locke meant more than it really did, they ushered her out the door amid foolish giggles.

"Harpies!" Locke grouched, kicking the hairbrush across the hall and into the door as it swung shut. Then he caught a glimpse of Terra and grinned, which made her cock her head in curiosity. "Hey! I knew there was a woman under that ugly old jumpsuit!"

Blinking, Terra wondered if he was serious. Surely he couldn't have been unsure of her gender, could he have?

"Come on," he gestured. "I'll show you around the castle grounds."

It was nearing twilight as they wandered back out into the main courtyard. The vendors and swordsmen-in-training had left, but there were still people wandering about, enjoying the cool night air.

"So, how do you like Figaro so far?" Locked asked as they strolled across the yard. "Not a bad place to hang out, hmm?"

Terra nodded idly, but was otherwise distracted by the first groups of stars that were beginning to pop up in the evening sky. Locke noticed her preoccupation and glanced up. "Nice view," he commented. "You like the stars?"

They were like tiny diamonds as Terra gazed at them, sparkling from so very far away. "They're beautiful," was her answer, but there was more to it than that. Looking at them stirred something in her. It was the first time she'd really looked up at the night sky since she could remember, and they triggered an odd sensation in her memory. She felt as though there was something wrong with them…like she was looking at them from the wrong side…

A strange and piercing voice came crashing though her reverie.

"Edgar, you pinhead! Why do you have to live out in the middle of nowhere?!"

Terra jumped at the loud shout. "What in the world-?" she started, but stopped when she saw the look on Locke's face. Contrary to the sunny, child-like expression he'd worn almost perpetually since their first meeting, now Locke's face was stony, like a man struggling to hold back a wave of fury. "Locke, what's wrong?"

"K-Kefka, sir?" rang the voice of the gate guard. "W-what are y-you…?"

"Out of my way, you fool!"

Locke seized Terra's wrist suddenly. "Quick!" he hissed, dragging her into the shadows of a nearby corridor. They had barely hidden from view when the gate was raised and the most frightening man Terra could have imagined stalked in surrounded by guards in black and brown armor.

His clothing was exorbitant and rich-looking. He was draped in layers of blood-red robes, strewn with yellow, white, and green scarves and decorations, some areas peppered in spots and odd patterns. There was an enormous yellow and white ruff around the back of his neck that extended down to his mid-torso; it was opened in the front, revealing a snow-white chest underneath. His face matched the whiteness of his chest, devoid of color, and his long blond hair - much paler in color to Edgar's - was piled in a tight knot high atop his head. But his eyes were the strangest, and terribly frightening. They were a fierce, bright, inhuman blue, and were surrounded by an inch-thick border of bright red makeup that bled in streaks down his face. It gave the impression that his eyelids had been slit from end to end.

Those eyes were mad…there was no doubt about it.

Terra felt a wave of terror pass through her as she stared at him, unable to blink.

"Edgar!" his piercing, insane voice rang across the courtyard. More quietly, to himself, he muttered, "Stupid Emperor Gestahl's orders. These recon jobs are the pits!" His cruel eyes wandered around at the people scrambling to get away from him and then down to the sandy ground in distaste. Suddenly, those terrifying eyes widened and a snarl escaped his lips. "There…there is _sand on my boots!_"

The black-and-brown soldiers sprang into action as though their lives depended on it. They hit the sand with no regard for their knees, and scrambled like dogs to brush the sand from the crimson boots.

"What brings Kefka, humble servant of Emperor Gestahl, into our lowly presence?" Edgar's voice rang out as he appeared from the main building and strolled across the yard. His voice was accommodating and friendly, but there was a hard edge to it and his face was as stony as Locke's.

Kefka sneered at the word 'servant' before hitching a frightening smile on his face. He walked forward, kicking the soldiers on the ground out of his way as he went.

"A girl of little importance escaped from us recently," he explained with a grimace. Locke's hand tightened around Terra's wrist and she sucked in a sharp breath. "We heard she may have found refuge here." He grinned in a way that he clearly meant to be friendly; the effort was an immense failure.

Edgar stopped walking while he was still far enough for it to be have been considered rude, but Kefka didn't seem concerned. "Hmmm…" Edgar said, pretending to consider this news. "This wouldn't have anything to do with this Magitek-riding 'witch' everyone's been whispering about, would it?"

Kefka's porcelain face twisted. "Lies!" he screamed so loud that Terra was amazed Edgar didn't jump from shock. A moment later he'd collected himself and resumed his horrid smile as though the outburst had never happened. "She…merely stole something of minor value. Is she here?"

"That's a tough one!" Edgar responded, playing at being thoughtful. "You see," he said while gesturing at the castle around them, "There are more girls in here than grains of sand out there. I can't keep track of them all!"

Kefka's eyes narrowed to slits and the grin on his face was like that of a starving wolf. "I'd hate to be you if we found out that you're lying…" A small chuckle fell from his lips.

Edgar said nothing in return, but raised a silent eyebrow.

There was a swishing of red fabric and sand as Kefka turned to leave. His guards scrambled to follow obediently. As they passed the gate he called back, just loud enough for Edgar to hear, "I truly hope nothing happens to your precious Figaro!"

Edgar's face trembled with anger.

When he was sure that the Imperials were gone, Locke stepped out of the shadows. "That guy's missing a few buttons…" he grumbled.

"Where's Terra?" Edgar asked.

She stepped out of the shadows, shaking a little, though it wasn't cold.

Edgar leaned in close to Locke and whispered, but Terra still heard. "Take her to her room, then come and see me in the throne room." He straightened up a little and turned to Terra, flashing a smile that wasn't nearly as dazzling as earlier. "M'lady, I'd love to stay here and chat with you, but I'm afraid the Chancellor and I must speak strategy. Sometimes I hate being king!" He sighed dramatically for effect, but Terra thought there was more truth to his words than he let on. "If you'll both excuse me now?" He bowed and gave Locke a meaningful look before turning and heading back to the castle.

"It'll be my fault…" Terra mumbled later, as Locke walked her down several corridors. "If that crazy man does something…it'll be all my fault."

"Don't worry about that," Locke assured her with a half-smile. "On the surface Edgar pretends to support the Empire, but the truth is that he's collaborating with the Returners. Kefka has suspected this for a long time, so it was only a matter of time before something like this happened."

"The Empire…" Terra moaned, a pain rising in her throat. "But I'm a soldier of the Empire!"

"That's not true!" Locke exclaimed. He seemed aghast at the concept. "They were using you like a toy! Things will be different now, I"m sure of it!"

Terra shook her head and leaned against the door they'd arrived at. "I don't understand," she groaned. "What should I do?"

Locke's smile was soft and patient. "I can't tell you what to do," he told her gently. "Nor do you have to decide right now. Be patient and make your choice once you feel you've seen enough to make the proper decision." With a protective air about him, he placed a hand on top of Terra's head and ruffled her hair a bit. "You'll soon find your way," he promised, before turning on his heel and heading back the way they'd come.

Terra reached up idly and ran her fingertips across the spot where Locke had touched her hair.

"But how will I know which way is _right_?"

* * *

None slept soundly that night, but Edgar - having been plagued with nightmares about his family - was the first to realize that something was terribly wrong. He'd thrown on his favorite navy uniform from the day before and was walking through the halls with his auto-crossbow in hand when he heard the first scream.

"What the-?" The auto-crossbow was quickly strapped to his back and he took off running.

Edgar's personal chambers opened out onto a stone bridge that spanned two of the outer towers; this vantage point gave him a wide view of the carnage below.

"What's happening?" he screamed to a Figaro soldier below who was attempting to put out the nearest fire.

"It's the Empire!" the soldier yelled back in a panic. "It's Kefka!"

The laughter, rife with insanity, that echoed through the courtyard made Edgar's blood boil. Kefka was standing, roaring with mirth, in the center of the chaos as screaming Figaro citizens ran from the fires.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Edgar bellowed in a rage.

"I know you've got the girl!" Kefka squealed back. "Bring her to me now, or welcome to my barbecue! Kya ha ha ha ha!"

Edgar's fists clenched as he screamed a string of profanity that echoed across the desert. His outburst only made Kefka laugh harder.

A body appeared behind Edgar. "Your majesty," the Chancellor spoke quickly and quietly. "The soldiers are gathering everyone inside as we speak…" As he said the words Edgar looked for himself. Those who were dashing about in the courtyard in a panic were actually quietly ducking into the main building.

"You're ready then?"

The Chancellor nodded slightly.

Edgar glanced across to the eastern bridge, where Locke and Terra were watching from the shadows, out of Kefka's view. Terra looked positively terrified, but she was dressed and ready. The two men locked gazes and Locke nodded.

"Do it," Edgar commanded.

"Good luck, your majesty," said the Chancellor before dashing off into the nearest corridor.

Edgar took a deep breath, hitched his cape back behind his shoulders, and hoisted himself up onto the wall of the bridge. "Kefka!" he bellowed.

Kefka looked up, and a wide, insane grin spread across his hideous white face. "Change your mind?" he called in a mocking tone.

"I guess I have no choice!" Edgar called back. But as Kefka laughed in glee, the young king placed two fingers in his mouth and belted out a sharp whistle that pierced through the night air. A cry like an eagle's called in return. Before Kefka understood what was happening, three huge, yellow, chicken-like creatures - the size of horses - came sprinting around the tower. The three chocobos stopped beneath the bridge and Edgar leapt deftly onto the back of the lead.

"Ack!" Kefka cried out in surprise, but he quickly fell into maniacal laughter once more. "Shameful that a king should flee, leaving his people behind! How utterly delightful!"

Edgar wasn't listening. He steered the chocobos, as swift as any other creature that ran on land, to the eastern bridge. "Jump!" he cried, but the others were already ahead of him. Terra landed gracefully on the back of her chocobo, while Locke almost tumbled right off his. He cursed loudly. Edgar urged the birds into a gallop, past Kefka - who was now gaping with wide eyes - and through the gate that he'd broken through.

"Go!" Edgar called behind as loud as he could. "Dive now!"

"Submerge mode initiated!" came the Chancellor's voice from high on top of the central tower. "No one can touch the people of Figaro!"

"Yahoo!" Locke cried across the desert.

There was a sudden immense rumbling, like the entire desert was shaking.

"What's happening?" Terra yelled out in alarm. Edgar was grinning at her.

"The people of Figaro have long studied the potential of machinery," he explained, winking and pointing to the auto-crossbow on his back. "What you're hearing is the secret of our desert castle!"

And with a second, closer look, Terra gaped in surprise to see that the huge stone fortress was actually beginning to slowly sink into the golden desert sands. In the foreground, as the sand rose in large, dusty clouds, Terra saw Kefka running as fast as his legs would take him and felt an uncontrollable urge to laugh out loud.

The three galloped away, laughing together, secure in their knowledge that the people of Figaro were safe. It was not yet so, however, for them.

"Go!" came Kefka's enraged voice, wafting on the wind. "Get them! _Get them!_"

It happened very quickly. Two soldiers, clad in full Magitek armors, emerged from the clouds of sand. There was a sound like an explosion as something collided with the sand mere feet from Locke. His chocobo reared and screamed in surprise, dumping him to the ground as it took off as fast as it could go. Edgar brought his mount to an unsteady halt in front of his fallen friend and ripped the auto-crossbow from his back. A round of bullets that could have easily been fatal shot the weapon away from his hand.

The Magitek armors, with their long stride, were on them in moments, all guns pointed directly at the two men.

"I'm really gonna enjoy this," one of the soldiers snarled. He had both his cannons aimed at Edgar's chest.

They were trapped. Edgar had no weapon and he couldn't flee without leaving Locke for dead. The Magitek soldiers couldn't possibly miss.

Terra made her decision without realizing it. The soldiers blinked stupidly at her as she leapt off her chocobo and ran into the center of the confrontation. Edgar shouted something that sounded like a plea to get back, but she paid him no attention.

"Then you'll be the first, you little bitch!" the soldier screamed.

He barely got the words out of his mouth before Terra had raised both her hands, cried out unintelligibly into the night sky, and all the land before her erupted into an enormous pillar of fire.


	4. Chapter 3 South Figaro

_Final Fantasy VI/III (Japanese/American) and it's characters/settings/script/etc are property of Square/Squaresoft/Square Enix, or whatever other name the copywrite might be written under, and the respective artists/writers/programmers/etc. _

***JUNE 15 2013 UPDATE***_  
_**A while back I exported Returning Hope to my computer and began fixing it up a bit - revisions, edits, spell checks, and so on. Somewhere along the line I lost track of whether I'd transferred those fixes back to this online copy, so today I am going to be updating each chapter, just in case. I've also been continuing the story in recent weeks, so look forward to new updates in the near future. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my blog at .com**

* * *

**Chapter Three - South Figaro**

* * *

She'd done it. She hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, but she had let instinct take over, and instinct told her to protect the men who had protect her.

The flames that had erupted from her palms began to slowly die down, revealing a scorched and twisted mess of metal in their wake. Terra gradually lowered her arms, leaving the last of the fire to burn itself out, and turned in disgust from the smoking, stinking heap.

The look on Edgar's face took her by surprise. Rather than looking relieved, she found him staring at the smoldering fires with eyes as wide as saucers, his jaw hanging slightly open.

Locke was hoisting himself from the ground, rubbing his head and stretching to peer around Edgar's chocobo. "What's happening?" He blinked a few times at the pile of melted metal and then up at Edgar's shocked expression. "W-what's the matter?" he asked in concern. "Edgar, you look positively spooked!"

"D-did you see what I just saw?" Edgar stammered.

Locke glanced back to the receding flames and then, oddly enough, started to examine Terra from every angle. "You loaded for bear, kid?" he asked, and Terra realized he was looking for the weapon she'd used to cause such destruction.

"She's amazing!" Edgar exclaimed suddenly, startling his chocobo. He turned his wide eyes to Locke's. "That was magic! _Magic!_" He said the word as though it meant something both holy and terrifying.

"M-m-magic?" Locke stuttered. He looked at Terra, and then back at the destruction behind her. He was looking with new eyes this time. His eyebrows raised and his mouth dropped open in realization, his face now a mirror of Edgar's. "She used _magic_?"

"Terra…" Edgar barely whispered. "Where in the world did you learn…?"

Terra's face was hot and her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. She clenched and unclenched her fists, confused and upset, completely insecure and unable to speak. What had she done wrong? She'd saved them, hadn't she? What was the problem? Why were they looking at her that way?

"I…sorry…I…" she whispered, her voice cracking painfully. "I…I just…"

The pain on her face registered something in Locke and he shook himself out of his own bewilderment. He shoved past Edgar's chocobo and rushed to grab one of Terra's hands. "No, no, it's okay!" he promised frantically. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to make such a big deal out of it!"

"Me either!" Edgar insisted loudly. He hopped from his chocobo and rushed forward as well. "It's just that I've never actually _seen_ magic before…where did you…?"

Locke cut him off at the strange look in Terra's eyes. "Look, Edgar…Terra can use magic and we can't, and that's it! She's still our friend, and frankly we could use her help. She certainly saved our hides just now!"

Terra's heart fluttered again, but for new reasons this time.

"You're right, of course," Edgar admitted. "This doesn't change anything, naturally. She's still just Terra." He grinned at her, his smile genuine and sincere.

She let her face break into a smile and allowed instinct to take over once again. "Thank you Locke!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him for a quick, tight embrace. She squeezed once, firmly, before releasing him and giving Edgar the same treatment. "Thank you Edgar!" By the time she stepped back again both men's faces were red as roses.

"Stop swooning!" Locke hissed under his breath at Edgar.

"_You _stop swooning!" Edgar hissed back.

The voice was distant, but they all heard the enraged shriek coming from the direction in which Figaro Castle no longer stood.

"Perhaps we should move on?" Edgar suggested urgently.

With everyone in full agreement, they quickly saddled up on the remaining two chocobos - Locke squeezed on with Terra - and took off to the south-east as fast as the birds would allow. Kefka's furious screams eventually faded into the early morning air.

"He's scary," Terra observed quietly. She couldn't stop picturing his abnormally pale skin and blood-like makeup.

Her simple observation caused Locke to chuckle, but there was little humor in the sound. "He certainly is."

They rode in silence for several long minutes before Terra spoke up again. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Through South Figaro and then into the mountains," replied Edgar. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

"Another Returner," Locke explained. "Our mentor, Banon."

"He will surely like to meet you," Edgar said, smiling at the thought. "Especially with what we now know. Your magic just may be the key to winning this war."

"Magic…" Terra rolled the word around in her mouth. It sounded familiar, but ultimately meant nothing to her.

"Terra has magical powers," Locke said, mostly to himself. "According to Arvis, that esper seemed to…react to her. Could there be some connection?"

Terra thought about it for a moment, but nothing came to her. "I haven't the foggiest," she said honestly. "I didn't really think about it. It just seems completely natural to me that I have the use of this power. It's like breathing."

Edgar frowned. "But no _human_ is born with the sort of power you seem to have, and-"

Terra's face had fallen again and Locke was glaring daggers at the king.

"I apologize," Edgar said quickly. "I just meant that you're very unique. I'm sure the Empire will be coming after you, and if they get their hands on you again…well, it won't be good for anyone."

Terra imagined the death and destruction her powers could cause under the influence of another slave crown. "What should I do?" she pleaded.

"You want to understand all of this, right?" Edgar asked. "Then I think we should consult with Banon. He is very wise."

Terra didn't reply, but after a moment she gave a quiet nod.

"Alright then. There's a cave in this direction that will take us to South Figaro. We'll make our way there and rest for the night."

* * *

The journey was barely a day long with the help of the lovable chocobos. They found the one that had run off wandering a little further south, looking decidedly regretful that it had abandoned its rider. Locke forgave it for dumping him in the sand and gave it and the others a few handfuls of seed before they continued on.

They reached the cave by mid-afternoon and passed through as quickly as possible, as the birds seemed to be frightened of the dark. From there it was a leisurely trot across grassy lands until they came to the port-town of South Figaro just before nightfall. The view was beautiful from here; the clear blue ocean lay to the south of the town, and a vast mountain range, tinted red by the sunset, lay to the north. Terra and Edgar admired the view and took the chocobos to a stable just outside town while Locke, the least conspicuous of the three, ran to the nearest shop to procure some disguises. He returned with a long, dark green robe for Edgar, who would be most easily recognized by the royal crests for his clothing. For Terra he brought a black silk scarf to hide her strange hair color, which had been spoken about enough in rumors to be identifiable.

"There's a bar attached to the inn," Locke informed them as they donned their new fabrics. "What say we book a room and have a nice, relaxing drink before bed?"

Edgar looked like he might argue, but he caved at the pleading in Locke's eyes and the interested look on Terra's face. "All right, all right. But I'd better not have any trouble hauling you out of bed in the morning, Mr Cole. We can't afford to be sleeping in."

Locke grinned, and Terra was sure she caught a hint of mischievousness in the action.

Terra hadn't gotten to see much of Narshe, and her mind had been too busy during most of her time in Figaro, so she took her time to take in the visuals of South Figaro. It was a lovely little town, busy with people. There was a bustling market district near the harbor; men were selling everything from fish and bread, to knives and swords, while women sold beautiful hand-woven fabrics and sweet treats. There were more children here than there had seemed to be in Figaro, running and playing if they weren't fishing off the docks with homemade poles. Several large boats with colorful sails, packed high with crates, were docked in the harbor, either waiting to unload or to ship out. Finally, the houses and different establishments were made of either logs or wood paneling, giving a somehow warmer and friendlier feel than had the stone corridors of Figaro Castle.

The bar was busy, but there was a friendly atmosphere about the place and the travelers were lucky enough to snag a corner table as an older couple were leaving.

"What'll I get yeh?" a busty barmaid asked with a smile.

Terra saw Edgar about to flash his dazzling smile, but Locke noticed as well and kicked him hard under the table. "Three of the house ale, please," he said while Edgar hissed in pain. The barmaid looked at them sideways, but wandered over to the bar all the same and quickly returned with three large glass tankards.

"You're an ass," Edgar muttered at Locke under his breath as the barmaid wandered away, hips wiggling.

Locke simply laughed out loud and took a large gulp of his ale. After a moment Edgar, who didn't seem to have it in him to stay mad for long, followed suit.

Terra looked cautiously at the glass of honey-colored liquid in front of her. She wondered why it foamed at the top and smelled musty. Eventually she placed the glass to her lips and took a swig. Locke and Edgar laughed at the face she made as she placed the glass back down to the table.

"Maybe we'll get you something a little sweeter?" Edgar suggested, but Terra shook her head.

"No, it's fine!" she insisted, not wanting to waste the drink. "I'll drink it!" She took another gulp to prove her point, and controlled her reaction this time. Then she took another drink…and another. Soon her cheeks were starting to turn pink.

"Woah! Slow down there!" Locke chuckled. "We'll be scraping you up off the floor if you keep drinking like that!"

As usual Terra didn't understand, but she slowed down all the same. Instead of guzzling the mug of liquid, she examined it, wondering how it could taste so icy cold and yet still make her throat and stomach feel warm.

The men chatted casually about idle things while Terra studied the patrons of the bar. There were lots of men in filthy work clothes, drinking and laughing loudly, but also a few women. Terra observed that the men and women who were the loudest also seemed to be the ones with red cheeks and noses. The barmaid hopped from table to table, cheerfully serving drinks. Once or twice Terra saw her using her serving tray to smack the hands of red-faced men who tried to grab at her backside.

Terra's gaze wandered past a trio of older men singing terribly off-key, past the middle-aged bartender who was daydreaming whilst drying a mug, and to the other side of the bar where a man sat alone with a dog at his side. Her eyes stopped here for a moment because he seemed so out of place amid the gaiety. He was dressed almost entirely in black; even his head and face were shrouded in black scarves so that only his dark eyes peeked out at the world. The only color on him came from a golden decoration on the wrap over his forehead, and a set of thick golden cuffs, one on each wrist. At his hip was a long, thin sheath that, presumably, housed a like-sized sword. A full mug of ale sat on the table in front of him, but he did not touch it. And then there was the dog. The dog was enormous and lean, mostly black like its master, but with a dark brown throat and belly. Neither its long, thin tail, nor its short pointed ears twitched as it sat obediently next to its master.

Terra stared at the pair for a long time.

Edgar's angry voice brought her back to the table. "No, I am not _following in his footsteps_! I fully intend on returning to Figaro once our tasks are done!"

Locke's hands were up in the air in defense. "Didn't mean anything by it, pal. Just making an observation."

Edgar fumed. Terra guessed that the conversation had turned to the twin brother who had run away from home. Still curious with the little information the handmaiden had offered, she wondered if it would be okay to prod the subject. After a few more gulps of ale she decided it would be fine.

"Edgar," she posed the question slowly. "Why exactly _did_ your brother run away?"

She had been worried that he'd get angry, but instead he looked rather surprised.

"The handmaidens mentioned it," she admitted.

Locke looked interestedly on; Terra assumed from the look on his face that he'd never heard the full story himself.

Edgar stayed quiet for a moment, swishing the ale in his mug and glancing back and forth between it and Terra. Eventually, after looking at Locke and finding the other mane staring intently, he sighed and lay the drink down. "Alright, alright," he said quietly. Both Locke and Terra leaned in to hear better.

"First off," Edgar began, "Our mother died when we were very young. She'd been sick and eventually the disease took her away from us."

Locke nodded, apparently having already known this part.

"Then, a few years ago, our father grew mysteriously ill. He'd been perfectly healthy before, and as he was rumored to have been funding an underground rebellion - the early Returners - it was widely suspected that he was poisoned by the Empire."

Terra drew in a sharp breath.

Edgar continued on, eagerly now, as though he'd been secretly dying to get this off his chest. "Sabin was always innocent and carefree. He focused more on his martial fighting hobby than on things like politics and his royal position. When he heard that the Empire may have assassinated our father, and that nothing was to be done about it, his world shattered.

Father passed on." Edgar paused here, recalling the painful memory. "And he left behind a wish that the kingdom be divided between his two sons. But Sabin rejected the idea of becoming a king. To have such power, and not even be able to avenge his own father? No. He wanted freedom from the insanity of the world that had fallen on his shoulders, and…and he wanted me to come with him."

Locke sat up straight in surprise. "Really?" he asked.

Edgar nodded. "We made an agreement; the toss of a coin would decide. If it was heads, he'd win and we'd both leave Figaro behind together and find our own way in the world. If it was tails…we'd both choose whichever path we thought was best, no hard feelings and no regrets."

From here, Terra and Locke could easily deduce what had happened. The three of them sat quietly for a minute, each imagining or remembering it in their own way, and Edgar took a long draught of ale.

"But I guess it all turned out, more or less," Locke said quietly.

Edgar nodded. "Except for one thing." He smiled sadly at the questioning looks of his companions before explaining: "There have been plenty of regrets."

After a few more moments of silence the men began to speak quietly and casually again while Terra turned Edgar's words around and around in her head. What exactly did he mean? Did he regret that he hadn't gone with his brother, or perhaps that he'd let his brother leave? His attitude toward his duties would have her believe that he regretted allowing himself to become entrapped in the world of politics. This, she felt, she could at least understand a little. To be forced to play at allies with the very people who had murdered your father…the idea deeply unsettled her stomach. In fact, she felt a little ill.

Her hand flew to her mouth and she forced herself to swallow though the taste was horrifying. The men weren't paying attention, so she quietly pushed her mug away and took a few deep breaths to settle her stomach. She closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself, and then slowly opened them.

The black-clothed man and his dog were staring at her.

Surprised, Terra stared back with wide, unblinking eyes. The man didn't blink either, didn't even move an inch. Terra wondered why he was suddenly so interested in her, and with a note of panic she wondered if he recognized her. Was he from the Empire?

Locke noticed the look on Terra's face and turned in his seat. "See something you like?" he called sarcastically to the stranger.

The dark eyes didn't turn toward Locke's voice, but after a moment they turned back to the still-full mug of ale. Half a second later the dog turned away as well.

Locke's face reddened. "At the very least you could give me a response!" He began to stand up, but Edgar hauled him roughly back into his seat.

"Are you crazy?" he hissed. "Do you know who that is? That's _Shadow_!"

"So?"

Edgar shook his head, the look on his face suggesting that Locke was exceptionally stupid. "Shadow is a famous mercenary-for-hire," he explained in a low whisper. "He's a money-grubbing madman. Rumor is he'd slit his mamma's throat for a nickel!"

Locke raised his eyebrows and swallowed visibly. "Best to steer clear of him then…" he admitted while glancing at Shadow out of the corner of his eye.

Terra, however, was staring openly now. He was mysterious enough, for sure, but she didn't get an evil feeling from him. She wondered if Edgar's words were an exaggeration, and she felt a twinge of apathy for the man. People seemed to think _she_ was dangerous too…

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no," Locke groaned. He pulled a blanket up over his head. "I refuse. Leave me here to die."

Edgar shook his head. Terra, who had no idea why Locke was so cranky this morning, sat on the edge of his bed and watched with interest as Edgar ripped the blanket back down from his pale face. Locke moaned in protest and curled up into a ball with his arms over his head.

"You promised this wouldn't happen!" Edgar accused angrily.

"It's a cruel fate that I can't escape from!" Locke shot back, his face turning green. "It's not my fault!"

Terra's curiosity got the better of her. "What's wrong, Locke?"

"He's sick," Edgar explained with his arms crossed. "He's _always drinking too much and letting himself get sick_."

"Oh," said Terra. Was that all? She looked sideways at Locke for a moment and then reached up and placed a hand on his forehead. His skin was clammy, but she held contact.

"What're you…?" Locke began, but cut himself off.

Terra's hand had begun to glow, softly at first, and then as bright as an open flame. Locke fidgeted nervously, trying to pull his head as far back into the pillow as he could, but he soon relaxed as a pleasant, warm feeling fell over him. The light began to die away and Terra pulled her hand back.

"Better?" she asked.

Locke's eyes were wide. "Completely!" he exclaimed, practically jumping from the bed. "What did you do?"

Terra shrugged a little. "Healed you? I don't know what the limitations of my powers are, but I thought it might help."

Edgar shook his head in awe. "You just get more and more amazing…"

"Not really," Terra mumbled, looking down at the bedsheets. She liked helping, but she didn't like being gawked at as though there was something strange about her.

Locke saw where the conversation had gone and caused a distraction by throwing his pillow hard at Edgar's head and taking off at a run down the hallway. Terra couldn't help but let out a little chuckle as the king took off after him.

A few minutes later Locke was nursing a rapidly-bruising forearm while Edgar paid the innkeeper for their night's stay. Terra wondered, with a raised eyebrow and a small smile, if either of them were even as old as they looked.

"Did you hear the awful news?" said a man at the back of the room to an older maid.

Terra turned her head in interest.

"What's that, then?" the old maid asked.

"Master Duncan's been slain!"

"_No!_ You must be mistaken! That can't possibly be true!"

"But it is, my dear woman! And what's more, his son and that disciple of his have disappeared as well!"

"My gracious…whatever do you think could have happened?"

"Well…this is just between you and me now…but I've never much trusted that son of his…power-hungry, you know?"

"Oh no, you don't really think that, do you? His own _son_ do him in?"

"Well I don't rightly know, my good woman, but if I were that disciple fella, that young Sabin, I'd be watching my back _real_ close."

Terra was distracted from the conversation by Locke's voice. "Hey, Edgar? You okay, buddy?" She turned to look and saw that Edgar's face was blanched white, his eyes locked on the man and the old maid. He looked a hundred times worse than Locke had looked that morning.

With a stab of emotion in her chest, Terra recalled that 'Sabin' was the name of Edgar's younger brother.

Gradually, looking as though he was holding back the urge to vomit, he began to move toward the man and the old maid. "This disciple named Sabin…" He barely spoke loud enough for them to hear, but they both turned at the sound of his voice. "Does he, perchance, look like me?"

"As a matter of fact," said the man, with a hint of surprise, "His hair is much shorter and he's rather more muscular, but the face…definitely."

Edgar began to tremble. He opened his mouth again, but no words came out.

Locke, who had only heard half the original conversation, began to catch on. He stepped forward quickly and gave the man and the maid a serious look. "Where did Master Duncan live?" he demanded.

The man looked suspicious, but the maid saw the green seeping into Edgar's face and she conceded immediately. "In a little wooden house about ten miles north of here."

She'd barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Edgar was out the door at a run.

Locke looked at Terra and she nodded at him before the two of them turned and quickly took off after their companion.


	5. Chapter 4 Mount Kolts

_Final Fantasy VI/III (Japanese/American) and it's characters/settings/script/etc are property of Square/Squaresoft/Square Enix, or whatever other name the copywrite might be written under, and the respective artists/writers/programmers/etc. _

***JUNE 15 2013 UPDATE***_  
_**A while back I exported Returning Hope to my computer and began fixing it up a bit - revisions, edits, spell checks, and so on. Somewhere along the line I lost track of whether I'd transferred those fixes back to this online copy, so today I am going to be updating each chapter, just in case. I've also been continuing the story in recent weeks, so look forward to new updates in the near future. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my blog at .com**

* * *

**Chapter Four - Mount Kolts**

* * *

Edgar ran.

By the time Locke and Terra reached the chocobo stable he was already on his mount and dashing out the door. As hastily as they could they grabbed their own steeds (Locke almost fell from his again) and urged them into the fastest run they would allow. They never quite caught up, but they managed to keep a clear visual on Edgar as they all sped north.

With the speed of the chocobos at their side it wasn't long before the small house began to appear against the backdrop of the mountains. It seemed to be in good repair to Terra's eyes, and she found her mind wandering, wondering if upkeep was one of Sabin's duties as a disciple.

Edgar reached the house first and was off his chocobo and in the front door before Terra and Locke arrived. When they finally walked inside it was to find Edgar sitting on one of three single beds, clutching a small, clear vase of bright blue flowers.

"He was here," he whispered, though of course they'd already known that. He held up the vase of flowers and there was a look of pain on his face. "These were his favorite flowers…our mother used to put them in our bedrooms at night so the smell would soothe us to sleep…"

Locke and Terra walked into the room and sat down at either side of Edgar.

"I'm sure he's alright," Locke assured him. Terra wondered quietly how he could say such a thing when there was no way he could really know.

No one knew what to say, and so they sat in silence for several long minutes, until the quiet was finally interrupted by the soft footfalls of another chocobo arriving out front. Edgar's head shot up and he barely managed to shove the vase at Terra before he was out the door. Gazing at them with a strange feeling in the back of her throat, Terra gently set the flowers down at the head of the bed before she and Locke followed.

The newcomer wasn't who Edgar had hoped for. He was an older gentleman with gray hair, who looked rather surprised to find people here.

"Oh!" he said, adjusting his glasses and dismounting his chocobo. "Who's this now? Friends of Master Duncan?" He gave a sad little shake of the head as he said the name. "I'm just here to pick up a few things for his wife," he explained without being questioned. "We moved her back into town, you see, to try and take some of the stress off."

Locke waited impatiently for the old man to finish before he spoke. "Actually, we're friends of his disciple, a man named Sabin. Do you know where we might find him?"

Edgar's face was beaky as the old man removed his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt while thinking. "Well," he spoke slowly, casually, neglecting to register the urgency on the younger peoples' faces, "The talk that's been going around is that young Sabin and Vargus have both disappeared. Not even the missus knows where they are, and she's in a right awful state over Vargus, being he's her son and all."

Both Edgar and Locke were practically shaking over the old man's calm and painfully slow response. Even Terra, despite herself, was shifting her weight back and forth, longing for the old man to say something useful.

"Now, they could very well be anywhere, doing anything," he continued on, pushing the newly-smudged glasses back on his nose. "But if I were to wager any money, I'd say they'd gone up into Mount Kolts to meditate on the situation. Master Duncan would take them up there for training and the like, you see."

Now that the information had finally been spat out, Edgar looked ready to make a run for it again. Locke held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Thank you very much," he told the old man. "We won't keep you any longer."

Terra nodded politely at the old man, who looked remiss that the conversation was over so soon. They gathered up their chocobos and began to lead them calmly away from the house.

"Let's go!" Edgar insisted. He tried to leap on his chocobo's back while Locke gripped at the back of his cape.

"Calm down for a moment," Locke demanded, his voice firm. "We'll go, but I want you to breathe for a few minutes first. You're too wound up, and that's not a good state to be in if we're going to be climbing a mountain!"

Edgar made a face and fussed like a child for a moment, but then he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on taking long breaths and slowing his heart.

Locke turned to Terra. "Now," he said to her, "I want you to decide for yourself whether you're coming with us or not."

Terra was taken aback. Why would she not go with them? "What do you mean?" she questioned.

"We might be following a murderer into those mountains," Locke told her bluntly. "If the man in town is to be believed, a murder who killed his own father. It could be very dangerous, and we can't drag you into it against your will. It's not your fight. We could rent you a room in town and-" He stopped because Terra had a strange smile on her face.

"Is that all?" she said. "I'm in danger from the Empire anyway, so this is really no different." Locke opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off. "I'm coming," she insisted. "You two might need me to save you again."

With his eyes still closed, Edgar grinned. Locke's lips twitched upward a little and he nodded.

Terra didn't say anything out loud, but she felt warm inside. Locke's concern had sparked a strange flame and changed her views on her presence in this situation. This wasn't all about stealing the Empire's best toy, or recruiting a magic-user to the Returners. Locke genuinely cared for her safety as well.

"Okay, Edgar spoke up, opening his eyes and taking one last deep breath. "I'm calm, I promise. Can we go now?"

Locke scrutinized Edgar for a minute and then nodded. "Okay, let's head out. Keep your auto-crossbow at the ready."

* * *

The base of Mount Kolts was foreboding. There was a path, but it was thin and steep. They would have to go single file, and the chocobos would have to be left behind.

"They'll be okay, won't they?" Terra asked as they dismounted.

"They'll be fine," Edgar promised. "They're extremely smart birds, and well-trained. They'll stick together and make their way back to the forests to the west of Figaro Castle. There's a stable master there who will take good care of them."

Terra nodded and turned to her chocobo. She nuzzled her face into its feathery cheek and whispered a quiet, "Thanks for everything." The bird cooed softly at her and ruffled its wings in reply.

"Okay, are we all set?" Locke asked. He was looking warily up the path, to a spot about a hundred meters away where the air suddenly became very foggy.

"Ready," Edgar replied, voice steady. He pulled the auto-crossbow from his back and held it at the ready in front of him.

Terra nodded and began clenching and relaxing her fists in preparation. She looked back at the chocobos one more time and they squawked at her once before turning and trotting off together. Terra silently wished them a safe journey.

They headed up the mountain cautiously, Edgar at the front, ready to sink an arrow into anything that attacked them. Locke was at the rear; he'd produced two long, curved knives from his pack and was twirling them around his fingers while keeping his eyes warily on the fog. Terra walked in between them, no physical weapon on her, but continuing to clench and flex her hands. She tried to watch all directions at once in case either man found himself in trouble.

Though the path was steep, slowing their ascent, it wasn't long before they began to approach the wall of fog. It was a little disconcerting, to be sure. The misty whiteness hung in front of them, still and silent, as though an invisible wall was holding it from sinking down any lower. It was thick as well; even Terra's excellent eyes couldn't tell what was beyond it.

Without meaning to, the trio had stopped in front of the white wall, hesitant to proceed. From somewhere above, a small rock fell with a gentle, echoing clatter, and Locke jumped. Eventually, just when Terra was starting to wonder if the men had gotten cold feet, Edgar took a deep breath and choked up on his auto-crossbow.

"Keep close," he instructed. "And watch your footing."

It was an odd sensation, Terra thought. She could make out Edgar's body in front of her, and she could feel Locke's presence behind her, but everything around them was a void of white and shadow. They shuffled along very slowly now, taking care that their feet continued to land on solid stone. For all intents and purposes, they could have been climbing the mountain with their eyes closed.

Terra stopped suddenly. Preoccupied, Locke stumbled into her. Edgar whipped around at the sound.

"What's wrong?"

Terra's eyes were narrowed, staring at a spot some fifteen feet to their right. "I saw a shadow…"

Given the nature of their journey, Edgar and Locke decided to take the claim very seriously. They raised their weapons, eyes darting to where Terra was staring.

Cautiously, her arms raised out in front of her, Terra began to creep forward to where she'd seen the movement. Eventually, gingerly, the fingertips of her left hand met rock; her right hand met open air. With Locke and Edgar creeping along behind her she examined the rock wall - and the absence of rock wall - with her hands. She noticed that minuscule movements in the air displaced the fog from the area where there was no rock.

"It's a cave," she deduced. With the men sticking close to her sides, she began to move into it.

They walked very slowly at first, feeling along the walls to guide them, Terra now in the lead. Soon, however, the fog began to clear. Gradually a wide tunnel appeared before them. It was dark, but without the fog their eyes were able to adjust. Terra conjured a small flame in her hand to help guide their way.

"I'm…I'm not sure which way he went," Terra stammered when they came to a fork in the road. "But I'm sure that the shadow I saw was a large man."

Edgar nodded gravely. "Alright," he said. "We'll try the right path then. I'll lead, Locke will keep an eye behind us, just in case. Terra, you keep the light going."

She adhered, but as they started down their chosen path she couldn't help feeling anxious. Neither man's eyes were as good as hers and she worried that the shadow-man would pop out and attack before either of them saw anything happening. If only she'd seen where the shadow had gone, they'd know where to focus their attention! She found herself obsessively turning back and forth to make sure that neither of the men had been silently murdered while she wasn't looking.

"There's light up ahead," Edgar announced quietly. It was only a tiny light at first, but they soon found themselves coming back out into the mountainside.

There was no fog here; only clean, crisp mountain air and the bright mid-day sun shining down on them. There was a rickety-looking bridge creating a path from one ledge to another, and when Terra looked over the edge she saw that the fog was below them, masking their elevation.

A flash of movement brought Terra's eyes back up to another cave opening at the far end of the rope bridge. "There!" she hissed at the men. "Someone is in that cave!"

Eyes narrowed, Edgar lifted his auto-crossbow and dashed across the bridge. With a cry of alarm Locke ran after him, and after half a second of surprise, Terra followed.

"Edgar, hold up!" Locke cried. "This bridge might not be safe!"

As though his words had been a prophecy, the air was suddenly filled with the sickening echo of snapping wood as a foot-board broke. With a yell of alarm, Edgar disappeared from sight. Locke hit the bridge with full force on his stomach and threw his arms out, barely snatching Edgar's flailing hand out of the air. The force of the catch jerked both men forward. Locke quickly looped his feet around the rope rungs of the bridge to stop himself himself from being yanked through the hole as well.

"You idiot!" Locke bellowed.

"I'm sorry!" Edgar's cracking voice wafted up.

Helpless as to what she should do, Terra dropped to her knees, scraping her legs on the weather-beaten wood, and began hauling on Locke's legs. "Hold on!" she cried, panicked. "I'll pull you back!"

"You can't!" Locke grunted as she nearly ripped his legs from his body. "The two of us together are too heavy!"

She was about to argue, but just as she opened her mouth another ear-splitting crack filled the air.

Locke had just enough time to twist his head and look at Terra with wide eyes before the entire bridge collapsed beneath them.

The moment of the drop seemed to last forever as Terra's heart raced, but the fall itself was all too fast. Before a second had passed they were hurtling through the layer of fog. Less than a second after that, the wind passing by her ears began to burn. Half a second later they'd come to a very sudden, extremely jerky stop.

For a moment Terra thought they'd hit the bottom and died. Then she realized that her right hand was still locked in a death-grip on Locke's pant leg. Further below, looking as though he might pass out from fright, Edgar was still dangling from Locke's arm. After a few seconds of tense silence, Terra took note of the strange position she'd landed in and looked up to find that the leather belt she'd wrapped around her waist to carry a pouch of seed for the chocobos had caught on the thick branch of a tall tree. They'd been saved by a lonely tree growing in the middle of the mountain. Edgar's hanging feet were less than five feet from the ground.

"What's this tree doing here?" Terra asked aloud, examining their surroundings. The tree's great brown body and spindly green leaves were the only color amid a sea of gray.

"Do you honestly give a damn?" Locke replied, laughing out loud with near hysterical relief. "Hey Edgar, think fast!"

Edgar had half a second to prepare before Locke dropped him, but he managed to make the landing with both feet. "Hey!" he cried, though he too was laughing nervously. "You could have broken my legs!"

"It'd be more than you deserve, you idiot!"

Terra was laughing now too. She couldn't have said why, but it felt so right. They'd almost died, but been extraordinarily lucky…should that really be so hysterical? Disbelief of the situation buzzed around in her head, and yet she couldn't stop the strange giggles.

With Terra keeping a firm grasp on his leg, Locke swung himself to another branch. He tossed down Edgar's auto-crossbow - which had gotten tangled in the branches - and helped Terra to safety. Together they descended the large tree that had saved their lives, and Terra promptly gave the trunk a huge hug. She only released the embrace when Locke spoke.

"What is it, Edgar?"

The young king's brow was furrowed as he examined a piece of wood from the fallen bridge. He ran his fingers along the break, which was straight and perfectly smooth through the first three quarters of the depth of the board.

"This plank was cut," he announced. There was a gleam of anger in his eyes. "I think someone tried to kill us."

"But why?" Terra asked.

The voice that answered her was deep, cold, and unforgiving. "Because you dared to scale _my_ mountains."

Their heads turned, surprised, up to an alcove of rock above and behind the tree. There, crouched like an enormous cat ready to pounce, was a huge, bulging man. His skin and thin ponytail of hair were dark, and the only clothing he wore was a loose pair of black pants. His arms were massive and his muscles twitched and bulged as he stared down at them with hate in his eyes. "Sabin sent you, didn't he?" he snarled, baring his teeth.

"Who're you?" Locke retorted.

The murder attempt momentarily forgotten, Edgar posed a different question. "Sabin? Is he here?"

Locke pushed his friend aside and stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger. "You were shadowing us earlier, right?"

Even from here Terra could see the man roll his eyes. "Brilliant!" he mocked. Then, to their surprise, he placed both hands at the edge of the outcrop and pushed off with mighty force. He propelled himself over them and landed a few feet away on the other side with a foreboding thud. When he stood up to his full height, Locke visibly gulped. The man was even bigger than he'd looked; at least twice the size of Edgar.

"And how unlucky it is that you should have to run into me!"

Edgar got one shot off before the man rushed. The arrow was aimed perfectly, but the man was very fast and very agile. The shot bounced uselessly off the rock wall behind them. The charging bull went straight for the king, but missed when Locke yanked his friend out of the way. While he was distracted, Terra threw out both of her arms, but the fire merely licked at his heels as he leapt to a large rock out of reach. If he was surprised by her use of magic, he didn't let on. Instead he bowed, grabbed on to either side of the rock - which was almost as big as he was - and began to lift. He hoisted it above his head as though it had no more heft than a wooden chair.

"Watch out!" Terra screamed to the men, but to her surprise the bolder came hurtling straight for her. In a panic move she raised her hands and screamed. The rock exploded brilliantly, showering everyone in shards. Terra and her comrades shielded themselves, but the huge man stood still and allowed a few shards to mar his skin.

"Enough!" he cried, his face clearly wrought with anger. "Away with you!"

It wasn't magic, of this Terra was sure, but the technique he used then was powerful, beyond what most humans were capable of. He swung his fists, up and down, back and forth, and he created wind. Or perhaps he commanded it… It was hard to explain. Regardless, a mighty wind was conjured where a moment prior there had been nothing. Terra's dress whipped around her legs and she had to squint her eyes against the sting of the rushing air. Again and again he swung his arms. The wind grew and grew until Terra started to stumble backward. A muffled yell, barely audible, made it to her ears. Leaning into the wind as much as she could, she raised her arms above her head and looked over to the tree. Locke and Edgar were there, hanging on for dear life, Edgar's cape whipping so violently that it looked like it might rip from his shoulders.

_Come on!_ Locke mouthed, reaching one hand out as far as he dared.

She tried, but the wind tripped her, pushed her off course, and she soon found herself on the ground, nails digging into the rocks in a desperate attempt to stay still. She tried to raise her palms toward the caller of the strange wind technique, but every time she tried she was pushed back even further. Locke was shouting, though there was no way she could have heard him, and Edgar looked one step away from letting go of the tree and running to her.

Terra was just about to shout to them not to move - not that they would have heard - when a large pair of bare arms wrapped around her waist. Before she could twist around to see who the arms were attached to, she found herself being hoisted into the air and carried, as though the wind no longer had any effect. Locke and Edgar were staring in shock, but the new stranger dropped Terra next to them and turned before she could see his face. She stared, instead, at his body. He wore only a loose pair of blue pants and a sleeveless white top, and although he wasn't freakishly enormous like the other man, his arms were muscular and very large. A short shock of spiky golden hair stood straight up from his head, and the muscles in his back were tensed.

"Give it up, Vargas!" his angry voice exploded over the wind.

"Is that you, Sabin?" Vargas laughed cruelly. He saw that his attack was having no effect and lowered his arms.

With the wind disappearing, Terra leaned forward to look at Sabin's face. Though the body shape and hair style were very different, she was surprised to see that the face was Edgar's through-and-through. The eyes, in particular, were absolutely identical.

"Vargas, why'd you do it?" Sabin cried. His hands were clenched into shaking fists. "How could you do in your own father like that?"

Vargas' face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Fool!" he screamed. "He made the mistake of choosing you as his successor! He snubbed me, his only son!"

Sabin's shoulders slouched. "No! You're wrong! You were the one he chose!"

"Liar!"

Sabin shook his head and Terra saw pain on his face. "Our master wanted you to be his successor, not me. He appreciated your spirit…"

Vargas' whole body was shaking, his face darkening with the rush of blood. "Enough of your lies!" he shrieked, his face contorted with rage. "Now have a taste of my Blizzard Fist, you bastard!"

Terra saw it coming and quickly wrapped her arms around the trunk of the tree. The winds came in one enormous, continuous gust that was as frigid as ice water. Tears sprung to Terra's eyes as she struggled to see if Locke and Edgar had managed to hold onto the tree. In a moment of panic, when she couldn't immediately see them, her fingers began to slip.

But it ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Locke and Edgar had lost their grip, but had only flown a few feet before the winds dispersed again. When Terra looked she found that Sabin was only a couple of feet from Vargas now, fists held high in a boxing stance. Vargas was rubbing his chin, his eyes fierce.

"Ahh, Sabin…the Master has taught you well."

"I guess there's no avoiding this."

Vargas raised his hands in a mimic of Sabin's stance. He was so enormous that Terra couldn't believe Sabin didn't tremble.

"Fate made us train together, and fate will send you to your doom!"

Vargas began to charge. The spectators tensed in concern, but in one split second Terra saw a wave of calm and confidence pass over Sabin's face.

"Blitz technique!" he bellowed. His voice echoed all through the mountains.

Vargas stumbled, and for the first time since he'd appeared before them, there was something other than rage on his face. Terra thought it looked like…fear.

"W-what the-?" he stuttered. "H-he already taught you that?!"

It was an amazing sight; Terra's eyes flew, trying to follow the movement of Sabin's fists. Locke and Edgar stared so blankly that it was clear all they saw was a blur of motion. It was hard to watch, but it was also hard not to. Vargas' head snapped back and forth; his chest, stomach, and arms moved in strange ways with every landing of Sabin's fists. It was impossible to tell whether it was the last hit that did it, or if Sabin just realized eventually that it was over.

Vargas' body, beaten to a pulp, dropped unceremoniously to the ground. For a moment Sabin stared at it as though he expected the man to jump back up, but when nothing happened he slowly lowered his fists.

"If only you hadn't been in such a rush for power…" he said quietly. There was genuine pain in his voice.

The silence was deafening until Edgar could no longer hold himself back and shouted, "Sabin!"

Sabin jumped a mile, as though he'd forgotten anyone else was there. "Big brother?" he replied, spinning on his heels.

The two blond men wasted no more time in sprinting toward one another. Their laughter filled the mountains as they clapped each other on the back and examined the changes that time had brought. Terra was again struck by how identical the two faces were.

"The brothers are reunited!" Locke cried jovially.

"Brother, yes…" Terra smiled and approached the reunion. "At first glance I thought he was a bodybuilder who had strayed from his gym!"

"B-bodybuilder?" Sabin exclaimed. He burst into laughter. "I think I'll take that as a compliment!" he roared. Soon, however, he turned back to Edgar with a concerned look. "Anyway, brother, what are you doing here?"

"We heard about your Master's murder," Edgar explained, looking a little sheepish. He glanced over at Vargas' body. "We, uh…came to rescue you."

Sabin guffawed at the irony of it, but there was also a joyous gleam in his eyes. Clearly, Terra thought, the idea of his brother rushing off to save him made him happy.

"Yes, it's a terrible thing that's brought us together," Sabin eventually sighed. He looked to Vargas as well and the pain returned to his eyes. "I'll miss them both terribly." He shook his head suddenly and turned back to the others. "But that wasn't really what I meant, brother. Why are you _here_, away from Figaro?"

"We were on our way to the Sabil Mountains."

Sabin nodded slowly, shooting glances at Locke and Terra. "To the Returners' hideout, no doubt?"

Edgar and Locke nodded.

Sabin raised his eyes to the sky and thought quietly for a moment. "I've been watching from afar," he admitted, "Hoping that the world might regain some of its sanity… At this rate Figaro will be reduced to a puppet state."

"No!" Edgar exclaimed. He shook his head angrily. "Our time to strike back has arrived! The Empire will pay for all it's done!"

Sabin's eyes dropped to meet Edgar's and the two brothers gazed at each other for a long time. Terra could only assume that they were both thinking about the past…about their father…

Eventually Sabin broke the silence. "Think a 'bodybuilder' like me could help you in your fight?" He winked at Terra.

Edgar, in spite of himself, looked surprised. "You'd join us?"

Sabin nodded, his face grave. "I've been sheltered away here, studying, for too long." His gaze returned to the still body of Vargas and a sad smile appeared on his face. "Besides, I think Master Duncan would rest easier if he knew his disciple played a part in bringing peace to the world."

Edgar couldn't keep the grin off his face. He happily clapped his beefy brother on the shoulder. "Come then," he said joyously. "We'll need a guide down the mountain. And also," his eyes glanced toward Terra, "There is much to talk about."


	6. Chapter 5 The Returner's Hideout

_Final Fantasy VI/III (Japanese/American) and it's characters/settings/script/etc are property of Square/Squaresoft/Square Enix, or whatever other name the copywrite might be written under, and the respective artists/writers/programmers/etc._

***JUNE 15 2013 UPDATE***_  
_**A while back I exported Returning Hope to my computer and began fixing it up a bit - revisions, edits, spell checks, and so on. Somewhere along the line I lost track of whether I'd transferred those fixes back to this online copy, so today I am going to be updating each chapter, just in case. I've also been continuing the story in recent weeks, so look forward to new updates in the near future. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my blog at .com**

* * *

**Chapter Five - The Returner's Hideout**

* * *

Sabin knew the mountains like the back of his hand. Within only a little over four hours he'd led them down a back pathway, out into a green and flat ravine between ranges, and well on their way to the Sabil Mountains to the northeast. On the hike the brothers caught up with each other with help from Locke on the most recent events. Terra was concerned about the part of the story that revealed her abilities, but Sabin's reaction to the news was one of calm interest.

"Magic, eh?" he said, smiling at her. "Master Duncan used to talk about how alike to magic some of his techniques are."

Terra nodded enthusiastically, thinking of Vargas' strange and powerful wind attack.

"Of course it's not really magic," he explained further. "The details are a closely-guarded secret, but the techniques I perform stem from a harnessing of physics, nature, and the power of illusion."

"I…I don't understand," Terra admitted. Edgar and Locke also looked as though they were quietly struggling with this information.

"Well, for example," Sabin said to Terra, "What sort of magic can you do?"

Without giving it a second thought, Terra lifted her palms and conjured a small flame between them.

Sabin smiled. "Now, there you have it," he chuckled, impressed and amused. "See, you can pull fire out of the air. Where once there was nothing, now there is flame, using nothing other than your desire for it to be so."

Terra nodded.

"But how is what you were taught different then?" Locke asked, thoroughly interested.

"If flame is already present, I can manipulated it." As a demonstration, Sabin performed a strange movement with his hand that caused Terra's flame to wiggle and dance. "But I cannot create." He dropped his hand and Terra let the flame disappear. "Vargas commanded a very old technique that allowed him to guide the movement of air," Sabin explained further. "But it only worked well in the mountains, where air currents are easily bounced off the rock."

"It's quite amazing, I must admit," Edgar spoke up. "That move you did was…dizzying, to say the least."

Sabin nodded soberly, his recollection more sobering than proud. "It's more of an illusion than anything," he modestly insisted. "The victim sees more punches than are actually being thrown, and thus doesn't know which ones to block."

Terra envisioned the rocket-fast punches she'd barely been able to keep track of and understood.

"What I do is the result of years of practice and dedication," Sabin said, then turned to Terra with a grin. "But what you do…well, that's something genuinely amazing."

He seemed to be in such honest awe that Terra found herself quietly repeating his words in her head for the remainder of the hike.

* * *

Nobody bothered to ask Sabin how he seemed to know exactly where the Returners' hideout was located; the wearied travelers were simply too grateful to have him as a guide. When they found themselves at the secret cave entrance that night, Edgar and Locke readily admitted that it would have been a two-day hike taking the path they knew.

A young guard, hiding in the shadows behind a large rock, popped up in surprise as the group approached. "King Edgar!" he exclaimed in shock. "What are you - I mean, please come this way!" The eager boy, whom Terra guessed was no older than fifteen or sixteen, ushered them happily down a short tunnel and through a thick wooden door.

"Ah," Locke sighed, stretching. "Good to be 'home'!"

Terra had to admit to herself that she was a little impressed. You could hardly tell you were inside a mountain. The tunnel opened up into a fairly large cavern that was furnished with a very long wooden table and many chairs. A makeshift bar was set up in one corner and an older couple were nestled there, doling out mugs of some sort of steaming, delicious-smelling stew. A number of other tunnels were partitioned off with more doorways; one of them was hanging open and Terra spied a group of small beds. The walls were lined with boxes of supplies and dozens of posters with revolutionary sayings, motto's, and ideals emblazoned across them.

"This way, Sir's and Madam," said the young guard again, hurriedly. "This way, please!" He led them past the stew bar, past the long table, and through a door in the very back of the cavern. It was a study of sorts that housed several large shelves, packed with books.

An older man with long, wild white hair, swathed in a pale yellow cloak, turned from the shelf where he stood. He'd been flipping through a very large, very ancient-looking volume.

"Ah!" he said, surprised at the sudden arrival of so many guests. "King Edgar! This _is_ a surprise!"

The young guard ducked away, presumably to return to his post, and Edgar stepped forward. "Banon, there is much to discuss," he announced. He opened his arms wide in greeting as he spoke.

"Yes, yes…" Banon agreed. He placed his book on a shelf and moved to meet them. "There must have been some interesting events for you to land here with Locke and…" His eyes scrutinized Sabin for a moment. "Your brother?"

Sabin nodded respectfully and no further questions were asked. Instead Banon's gaze wandered to Terra.

"And who is this lovely young lady?" he asked, though by the way he was looking at his hair it was clear that he already had some idea.

"Terra Branford," Edgar answered for her.

"Hmmm…" Banon mumbled. "Yes…the girl who can talk to espers?"

Terra opened her mouth, ready to defend herself if need be, and explain that as far as she could recall there had been nothing resembling a conversation with the creature in the Narshe cave.

Edgar interrupted her. "It seems that the Empire had complete control over her."

"Yes, yes…" Banon replied, his eyes boring into Terra's. "Carrier pigeons brought word that she wiped out fifty of the Empire's best soldiers in mere moments."

The blood flew to Terra's face, and then drained just as quickly. "That's a lie!" she screamed in horror. She turned to run from the room, desperate to escape Banon's steady gaze, but Locke and Sabin caught her on either side.

"Terra," Locke whispered to her as she struggled against them. "It's okay…"

"Banon!" Edgar cried, a hint of disgust in his voice. "She doesn't remember anything! And even if she did, she wasn't in control of herself! She's a victim in all this!"

But Banon wasn't listening to Edgar; he was still staring steadfastly at Terra. "Stay where you are!" he demanded, his voice suddenly loud and firm.

The authority in his voice caused Terra to freeze and slowly turn around, her eyes wide. She was surprised to find that the look on Banon's face had changed…he looked desperate, and very, very old.

"Perhaps you may have heard this story," he spoke quietly while taking a few steps forward. "Once, a long time ago when people were pure and innocent, there was a box they were told never to open. But one person's curiosity was too powerful and one day he stole away and opened the box to see what was inside. In doing so, he unleashed all the evils of the world…envy…greed…pride…violence…control… All that was left in the box was a single tiny ray of light…hope." As the word left his lips, a like emotion flickered in his eyes. "You may not realize it yet, but we now confront those evils within the Empire, and you may be that last ray of light…our only hope."

Shocked and confused at the bluntness of his statement, Terra stumbled backwards into Locke. He caught her around the shoulders and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"Banon!" Edgar admonished, but his voice was small. It was clear that his opinion on the subject was similar to the old man's, even if he wasn't quite so straightforward about it.

This time Banon reacted to Edgar's voice, and for the first time since he'd noticed Terra, his eyes moved away from her. "Leave me now," he all but whispered. "I am…very tired."

Locke gave Terra's shoulders another comforting squeeze and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

* * *

Locke led Terra back to the room with the beds she'd spied upon their arrival. They were both silent, neither sure what to say to the other. Locke motioned Terra toward a corner bed in the empty room and she sat down. After a moment of hesitation he turned and sat facing her on the next bed over.

Terra's mind was swirling. 'Our only hope', Banon had said. What could he possibly mean by that? What was she supposed to think about it? He hadn't explained anything at all, just dazzled her with a fairy tale and left her with a hell of a lot of confusion and questions. Was he…was he expecting her to _fight_ for him?

"Locke," she said after what felt like an eternity of silence, "Why did you join the Returners?"

Locke's eyes probed Terra's face, but she was staring resolutely at the floor while she awaited an answer. After a moment he sighed, lay back on the bed, and crossed his arms behind his head. "Someone important to me was jailed by the Empire," he explained slowly. He didn't use so much as a pronoun, but Terra's mind flashed an image of Locke standing next to an older, more rugged version of himself…father and son. "I've hated the Empire every since," Locke continued on. "When I realized that they were completely rotten to the core, I sought out and joined the Returners. I wanted to make a difference."

Terra considered his words for a while before speaking again. "But I have no significant other in my life, no one to fight for. No one to 'make a difference' for."

Locke turned his head to look at her, and this time she was looking back. "That's not entirely true," he told her. "Your memory still has a lot of holes in it, so you can't be sure that someone like that doesn't exist for you." He smiled. "Besides, I'm sure there are people out there who feel that you're important to them. They're probably out there right now, somewhere, counting on you to do what's right."

Terra couldn't decide whether that was a comforting thought or not. It was nice to imagine that there might be people out there who were emotionally attached to her, but it was also frustrating to think that they might be counting on her to make a decision that she felt completely inadequate to make. She just didn't know what the 'right decision' was.

She popped up from the bed so suddenly that Locke jumped. "I need to move," she announced. "Take a walk or something."

"You want me to come with you?" Locke asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"No," Terra replied slowly. She turned toward the door. "I need to think." She strode off before Locke could object.

There were plenty of people wandering the tunnels of the hideout; more than Terra had expected, men and women of all ages. It seemed that the Empire was more widely hated than she'd realized. It was difficult to find somewhere quiet to think. She met up with Edgar in one room, and he gave her some thoroughly unhelpful advice.

"It's tough to try and talk you into joining us," he'd said with a careful smile. "If we push you too hard then we're really no better than the Empire. So we want you to make up your own mind…trust yourself."

Later, by the food bar, Sabin gave her some even less helpful advice.

"The only thing I can add," he'd said thoughtfully, "Is that you can trust my brother implicitly. He's a good man and has always been fair with me. You can trust him, Terra." He added with a sheepish grin, "But don't you dare tell him I said that!"

After a polite smile to each, and feeling thoroughly uninspired, Terra eventually made her way to the mouth of the cave entrance. Here she finally found a quiet place to think. It was still fairly early in the day, but the sun was beginning to disappear behind the large walls of mountains, casting shadows across the valley.

For a few minutes she let her thoughts disappear beyond the mountains as well. The warm breeze blew through her hair and she stood with her eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the evening; a wolf's howl, an eagle's cry, and the grass in the valley rustling in the wind.

"Peaceful, isn't it?"

Terra jumped about a mile before peering around the corner of the cave entrance. Banon was there, a few feet away, sitting down against the stone wall. His eyes were closed, his head resting back.

"I come out here sometimes, to think," he explained. "It's a very calming environment."

Terra hesitated for several moments before walking over and sitting down next to him. "That is why I am out here as well," she admitted.

"Hmm…" said Banon. "Trying to make up your mind about joining us?"

It was another few moments before Terra responded. "Yes."

Banon offered no more, but Terra soon found herself irresistibly displaying her thoughts for him to see.

"It's just that," she started, "I think you're the 'good guys', but how do I really know? My memory has so many gaps. How do I know that the Empire isn't perfectly sound and that the Returners aren't just a group of rebels who want to overthrow the government?"

Banon chuckled a little, and the response he gave almost seemed to be rehearsed. "I suppose when you put it in that sense, you really can't know for sure," he told her, his eyes still closed gently. "But we don't fight because we know we're right. We fight because our hearts tell us we're right. Tell me, Terra, knowing that the Empire enslaved you against your will, what does your heart tell you?"

Terra didn't have to think very long before admitting, "Anyone who would do that to someone has to be bad…"

"And as for us, well," said Banon, "We can't really prove to you that what we're trying to do is inherently 'good', but certainly there's no harm in observing for yourself. Allow yourself the time with us in order to give your heart enough evidence to decide properly."

Terra considered this for a long time. She watched an eagle, its wings spread majestically, soar high in the twilit sky. "Yes…I suppose so…"

Now, finally, Banon opened his eyes and turned to look at her. "Then I must ask, as it's been killing me, you see," he said with a flicker of a smile, "Have you made your decision? Will you give our organization a chance and possibly become our last ray of hope?"

Terra continued to watch the eagle until it landed on a nearby ridge, where sat a large nest. She spied several tiny bald heads peek up as the mama-bird nuzzled in.

"Yes," she whispered.

Banon's eyes lit up. "Really? You will?"

"But," Terra interrupted loudly, "I'm scared."

Unable to hide his jubilation, Banon twisted to place both hands on Terra's shoulders and grinned. "That's natural," he told her. "But try to have faith. If everyone works together, with a common goal in our hearts, we'll be successful. Never give up hope!"

Terra allowed herself a small smile.

With a childlike bounce, a grinning Banon jumped to his feet. "I believe," he said aloud, "That it is time to call a meeting!"

* * *

Terra sunk a little in her chair. Locke chuckled and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder.

The area with the long table was packed. There were at least three times as many Returners as Terra had originally estimated, and many of them were looking at her with interest as they chatted and waited for the meeting to begin.

"Alright!" Banon spoke above the crowd from his place at the head of the table. The crowd quieted and turned all their attention to him. "First, we all know that the Empire is using this strange Magitek power in battle. The question is, how has the Emperor created this man-made magic?" Here he paused and looked to Edgar, who stood and cleared his throat.

"I had heard a rumor," he told the room, "That the Empire is forcing the world's finest scholars to study espers and esper lore. Locke looked into it for me."

"It seems to be true, although I haven't been able to officially confirm it," said Locke, who refused to stand when he spoke. "All the trouble in Narshe was over an esper too."

Terra's mind flashed to the strange, beautiful creature, encapsulated in ice, staring, eternal… "Do you mean," she said quietly, "That there's a connection between espers and the power that the Empire wields?"

Banon nodded gravely. He linked his fingers in front of his face and peered over them. "I can think of only one thing that would liken espers to machines that seem to use magical powers."

Out of the corner of her eye, Terra noticed that Edgar's face dropped in a strange way. His mouth opened a little and a half sentence escaped. "You can't mean…?"

"Indeed," Banon answered. He projected his voice to ensure everyone would hear. "The ancient War of the Magi."

A gasp went throughout the crowd.

"No!" cried one woman.

"You can't be serious!" exclaimed another.

Terra glanced around, bewildered at the shock and horror on the faces of the Returners. Gloriously ignorant, she asked, "What's the War of the Magi?" No one seemed to hear her.

"My Grandma used to tell me stories about magical machines that existed long ago," Locke told Edgar, eyes wide. "Could they have been true?"

"Could that ancient tragedy be playing out again?" Edgar responded in question.

"This is all just speculation," Banon's loud voice brought a bit of order back to the room. "But historical studies have provided a number of conflicting and frightening theories about the War. According to one of the more common theories, humans and machines were imbued with magical powers drained from espers."

"And devastation was the result," Edgar growled, "Since you can only fight magic enemies with magic weapons!"

Banon nodded. "But one way or another, the War ended. _How_ is the missing link that may help us." Here his eyes locked on Terra. "It may be risky, but that esper in Narshe reacted to Terra… If we have her 'speak' with it, it may just wake up and-"

"I wonder if that's wise?" Edgar interrupted, frowning.

Banon shrugged, flicking his gaze to the young king. "Who's to say?" he admitted. "But regardless, we aren't particularly burdened with options. We need to try something, anything, if it will help us understand our situation and come up with a way to fight the Empire. And for that we need Terra's help."

Terra felt every eye on her and cringed. But she was also thinking about the esper again, about its piercing gaze. She vaguely remembered the scream as the second soldier vanished. But the esper hadn't hurt her. She'd simply passed out. Perhaps it wouldn't be dangerous at all. Perhaps the beautiful creature would be grateful to Terra for freeing it from its icy slumber. Perhaps it would give Terra some answers…tell her what she…

"I'll do it!" she exclaimed. Several people jumped in surprise.

"What nonsense!" Sabin laughed, teasing. "You sound almost as if you're enjoying this!"

Banon ignored the excited whispers and Sabin's banter and gave Terra a warm smile. "Thank you," he told her. "You have no idea how much we all appreci-"

The slam of a door and the clatter of several crates bouncing across the stone floor interrupted Banon's moment of gratitude. Several people rose from their chairs and all heads turned to look as a young man stumbled into the room and fell to his knees. Terra recognized him as the young man who had led them into the hideout earlier. His dark hair was pasted to his slick forehead and he was gasping as though there wasn't enough oxygen left on the planet to fill his lungs.

Banon rose from his seat. "What's going on?" he demanded. "What's happened?"

"S…South Figaro," the young man struggled with every syllable. "Empire…t-took South F…Figaro…coming…this way!"

The panic was tangible. Terra swore she could feel each heart rate quicken, each breath shorten.

"But why?" Edgar exclaimed. "South Figaro is a peaceful fishing town! What use could the Empire possibly have for-"

"They've found us," Banon groaned. "We haven't a moment to lose!" Terra watched in confusion as the Returners' leader began quickly doling out evacuation orders.

"Locke!" cried Edgar.

"I know," replied Locke. "Someone has to sneak into South Figaro and slow the Empire down, right?"

"This is right up your alley," said Edgar with a grim smile.

"No!" Terra cried, surprising both men. "You can't go alone!"

Locke smiled that soft, infuriating smile, and placed a hand on Terra's head. "Don't you worry about me. This is what I do. I'll be just fine." Terra tried to argue, but Locke plowed on, not to be interrupted. "Wait for me in Narshe, and please, don't let a lecherous young king, who shall remain nameless, anywhere near you!"

"Locke!" Edgar screamed, his face red. He grabbed madly at the other, but Locke had already run, howling with mad laughter, toward the exit. Terra watched him go with a frown on her face and a worried crease on her brow.

Sabin, who seemed to be immune to the concept of panic, was roaring at the rage on Edgar's face. "Oh big brother," he chuckled loudly. "Won't you ever grow up?"

Banon had appeared behind them. "Everyone is heading out through the back tunnels," he explained. "They're going to scatter until further notice, but I think we four should head directly to Narshe."

Edgar put aside his anger long enough to agree. "Yes, I want to see that esper for myself, and we really shouldn't waste time. We can head down the Lete River."

The men all agreed, but given the strange look on Banon's face, Terra had a very bad feeling about the decision.


	7. Chapter 6 The Lete River

_Final Fantasy VI/III (Japanese/American) and it's characters/settings/script/etc are property of Square/Squaresoft/Square Enix, or whatever other name the copywrite might be written under, and the respective artists/writers/programmers/etc. _

***JUNE 15 2013 UPDATE***_  
_**A while back I exported Returning Hope to my computer and began fixing it up a bit - revisions, edits, spell checks, and so on. Somewhere along the line I lost track of whether I'd transferred those fixes back to this online copy, so today I am going to be updating each chapter, just in case. I've also been continuing the story in recent weeks, so look forward to new updates in the near future. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my blog at .com**

* * *

**Chapter Six - The Lete River**

* * *

"You're joking, right?" Terra asked without humor.

Edgar shot back a half-hearted smile and reached down to untie their vessel from the shore.

The Lete River ran through the north-eastern mountains, a thin and winding road of raging rapids. Even as they stood on the stone shore of the twisting torrent, their legs were being drenched by the crashing waves.

The vessel that Edgar and Banon intended them to navigate this watery deathtrap with was a 15x15-foot raft comprised of roughly bound together logs.

"Don't worry, Terra," said Sabin, clapping her on the back just a bit too hard. "If anyone falls in, I'm an excellent swimmer!"

Terra groaned.

"Okay," Edgar said, having untangled the rope. He held on with all his strength to keep the raft from ripping away from them. "Everyone aboard!"

Terra stepped on hesitantly, dropped to her knees, and clung to a bit of rope sticking between to of the logs. Banon and Sabin followed suit, though both seemed significantly more confident. Edgar was the last to board, leaping gracefully as the rope anchor fell to the waves.

The raft jerked forward as though it had been dying to ride the rapids. At first Terra squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could and cringed at every bounce and lurch, every icy splash in the face. But after a few minutes, when there had been no yells of terror from the men, she slowly opened her eyes to see what was happening.

The speed was incredible as they hurtled along between the two rocky shores. There were treacherous turns everywhere, but Edgar and Sabin, one at each of the front corners of the raft, used their body weight to expertly force the vessel in the directions they wanted to go. They were perfectly coordinated with each other and Terra wondered where in the world they would have picked up such a skill growing up in the desert.

Banon had a goofy, childlike grin on his face as he held his head up to the cool winds rushing by. Terra looked at him and, how that she knew the Figaro brothers had navigation under control, couldn't help but smile herself. This was amazing! They were actually river-rafting down a mountain range! Even if the Empire's soldiers suspected how they'd left, surely they hadn't thought to bring a boat with them; no change anyone would catch up to them now!

Terra found herself laughing out loud at the thought. Banon soon joined her with his deep guffaw, and the Figaro brothers weren't far behind.

All concerns temporarily forgotten, Terra dared to release her death grip on the raft and made her way, unsteadily, to a standing position. Spreading her arms like the eagle she'd watched earlier, she reveled in the wind and water spray.

They floated on for miles in this way. Sometimes the river would wide and they'd hover along at a calm, relaxing pace; other times the banks would close in and the raft would rip along so fast it was hard to believe that Edgar and Sabin could keep them from capsizing.

They'd reached a relatively calm area when Banon announced that they were beginning to near the Narshean mountain range.

Terra raised her arms to the sky for a good stretch and felt it…a small bump on the underside of the raft. "Did anyone else feel that?" she asked, turning her eyes to the logs on which she stood.

"Feel what?" asked Banon. He was eying her curiosity.

He'd barely gotten the words out of his mouth when there was a startling crash and the raft lurched violently. Terra stumbled and nearly toppled over the side, but Sabin snatched her arm.

"What was that?" Edgar cried in alarm.

The raft began to settle again, the ripples in the water fading away to nothing. They were all silent as the raft floated on, waiting for another occurrence. At first there was nothing, but then Terra spied a gathering of bubbles.

They had just enough time to guide their raft off to the side before the creature emerged. It broke through the water's surface so violently that the resulting waves almost tipped them clean over.

"W-what is it?" Terra shrieked.

The thing was huge; its bulbous body, black as ocher, was at least as large as their raft, and was amplified by eight swarming, thrashing tentacles slapping the surface of the water in a rage. A pair of gleaming white eyes stared at them from low on the main body, just above a row of thick, pointed teeth that stretched into an extremely wide grimace.

When it spoke, Terra nearly had a heart attack.

"OW!" it shrieked in a high, piercing voice that grated terribly against their ears. "You hit my head, you, you…jerks!"

Edgar's mouth was hanging open. "Sorry?" he offered.

The creature's eyes narrowed and it raised a tentacle, waving it back and forth in a 'tsk tsk' motion. "Uwee hee hee…" it chuckled. "Sorry won't cut it with me, the mighty Ultros!"

Sabin snorted. Edgar and Banon shot a glare at him.

"Game over!" Ultros screamed, pointing four tentacles straight at Sabin. "Don't tease the octopus, kiddies!"

Two tentacles came swinging in with immense speed. Terra screamed and Banon ducked in fright. Sabin grinned wide, lifted his arms, planted his feet, and stopped the tentacles in midair. Water from the creature's slimy skin drenched his body, but he grinned and flexed his arms as though it was all a terribly fun game.

"Muscleheads?" Ultros squealed. "Hate em!" While Sabin struggled, the giant octopus whipped around with two more tentacles, looking to smash their raft.

"I think not!" Edgar bellowed. The auto-crossbow was already in his hands and he shot off a volley of arrows before any tentacles could land.

Terra covered her ears at the hideous noise Ultros emitted. Sabin was almost hauled off the raft as all tentacles flailed madly. Ultros slapped its limbs against the water in a desperate attempt to dislodge Edgar's arrows.

"Arg!" it screamed, voice filled with fury. "Delicious morsel! Let me get my bib!"

"Away with you now!" Banon bellowed. "Take to the seas before you are injured further!"

The high-pitched laughter that followed was almost as painful as the scream. "I think not!" squealed Ultros, and all at once he lunged forward with his entire body.

Edgar raised his weapon and Sabin planted his feet, but they never got the chance to meet the attack. A burst of flame flew between them and connected squarely with Ultros' face. The scream he let loose caused the brothers to cover their ears in dislike. Terra lowered her arms, a stony set on her face, as the violent creature fell back into the water, thrashing in pain.

"Yaaaaaaoooooooucch!" it shrieked. "Seafood soup! Seafood soup!" And then it sunk beneath the surface of the water, leaving behind only a few tendrils of steam.

"Good job, Terra!" Banon praised. Terra flushed.

"Is it gone?" Edgar asked cautiously. He peered over the edge of the raft. The current was beginning to pick up again and he could make nothing out.

"I think Terra thrashed it!" Sabin announced with a hearty chuckle.

Terra smiled, pleased to have helped, but the smile soon fell off her face as she felt something wet and slimy rub against her leg. Startled, she jumped, but the thing had glued itself to her boot. "Ew!" she cried, upset. "There's something stuck to my leg!"

The thin end of a tentacle curled around Terra's ankle and yanked hard, but Edgar and Banon grabbed her arms and Sabin brought both of his fists down as hard as he could. There was a squeak and a burst of bubbles from the water and the tentacle retracted beneath the surface.

"Terra, over here!" Edgar insisted, pulling them all to the center of the raft.

"It's alright now," Banon promised. Terra took a few deep breaths.

"That slimy, disgusting…" Sabin growled, peering into the water. "Watch out, I'm gonna hit it with a Blitz technique!"

Edgar reached out as Sabin stepped forward. "No! Sabin, wait!"

But Sabin shrugged off his brother's hand. "Don't distract me, Edgar!" Without a further word, he leapt from the raft and into the rapidly accelerating waters.

"He's always been a tad zealous," Banon groaned. Terra gaped.

"Sabin!" Edgar shouted again, his voice raising with panic.

"Don't worry," Banon assured him with a smile. "You should know better than any of us that any moment he'll flop right onto the raft!"

Edgar was just opening his mouth to reply when there was an enormous splash and a yell. Their heads whipped around to see that Ultros had reemerged a dozen meters away, with Sabin standing on his head. As they watched, amused, Sabin hopped back and forth atop the octopus' dome, dodging swing after swing from the tentacles. They couldn't help but laugh as Ultros pummeled his own brain in a mad attempt to squash his tormentor.

"Seems a little too perky!" Edgar chuckled.

But Banon had stopped laughing. Terra followed his gaze and saw why. The now-speedy waters were hurtling them toward a fork in the river. Their raft was being pulled irresistibly toward the left fork. Sabin, still dancing on Ultros' cranium, was floating toward the right.

"Sabin!" Terra called out in alarm.

The younger Figaro brother turned to the sound of his name, but was just as soon distracted by a flailing tentacle.

Edgar and Banon dropped to their knees and struggled to reroute the raft closer to Ultros, but the water was too fast and they were soon beyond the point of no return.

"Sabin!" Edgar cried out as their paths split. He looked concerned and frustrated, but he knew there was nothing to be done. "Sabin, take care of yourself! Meet us in Narshe!"

The brothers locked gazes for half a moment before the waters carried them out of each others' sight.


End file.
